


City of Stars (Are You Shining Just For Me?)

by baeconandeggs, ohshn (gummybear1620)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Abandonment Issues, BAE2017, M/M, light sexual situation, minor!character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 14:23:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10992738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeconandeggs/pseuds/baeconandeggs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gummybear1620/pseuds/ohshn
Summary: Ten thousand years from now, humans destroy Earth. Two millennia later, Chanyeol finds Baekhyun peacefully asleep in his cryo tank, oblivious to the world around him. (In retrospect, the first thought Chanyeol will remember having about Byun Baekhyun is this: he has eyes filled with stars.)





	City of Stars (Are You Shining Just For Me?)

**Author's Note:**

> Author: anonymous  
> Prompt#: #327  
> Title: city of stars (are you shining just for me?)  
> Word Count: 26,500  
> Side Pairing(s): slight, slight HunHan and KrisHo  
> Rating: pg-13  
> Warning(s): language, (super) light sexual situation, minor!characterdeath, chanyeol likes to play with fire, abandonment issues, most likely highly inaccurate scientific info  
> Disclaimer: The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Author's Note: Hello, dear prompter! I hope you enjoy this, even though I'm afraid I spun your prompt wildly out of proportion. (Is Chanyeol even a viper pilot?? Maybe not. I'm sorry. But he's a space pirate :D) I've always really enjoyed scifi, and I'm super glad I got the chance to write this, even if I'm horribly uncreative and I probably used way too many deus ex machinas (sorryyy). I hope you still find it satisfactory! Also, a big thank you to the mods who were so patient with me every time I needed to extend my fic deadline >< and yes the title is from la la land (no shame)

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”  
  
“You never think my ideas are good ideas.”  
  
“Yeah, but I _really_ don’t think this is a good idea,” repeats Sehun, a frown tugging at his thin lips. “You’re going to warp into a government-forbidden solar system that’s been abandoned for over two millennia.”  
  
Chanyeol shrugs, flicking a few switches on the dashboard to adjust the fuel levels. It’s been a while since he could refuel, so he’s going to have to be careful if he doesn’t want to be stranded in the Milky Way. “Come on. We’ve done worse things. Remember El Dorado?” He smirks, leaning back in his seat to catch Sehun’s eye.  
  
Sehun makes his typical annoyed expression that Chanyeol has come to associate as the Disappointment-But-Also-Acceptance-With-Chanyeol’s-Bad-Decisions face. He folds his long limbs into the seat next to Chanyeol’s. “El Dorado wasn’t banned by the interspace police, though,” he grumbles.  
  
“Since when has a little adventure ever stopped you? Don’t tell me you’re going _soft_.” Chanyeol grins, satisfied, and leans over to program the coordinates of the Milky Way wormhole into the jump drive.  
  
“I just value my freedom a little more than you. Besides, how did you even get the coordinates for the wormhole? Aren’t they classified?”  
  
Finally finished, Chanyeol settles back into his seat. “Junmyeon gave them to me. You know he has a soft spot for me. And I promised I’d give him a share if I found anything good.” He pauses for a moment, before a mischievous look flashes across his face. “Not that he’d _really_ know if I found anything good.”  
  
“You’re terrible. Just get on with it already.” Sehun sighs, covering his eyes with his hands. “I hate warping—”  
  
Mid-sentence, the ship gives a violent jerk, and for a second, it feels as if their bodies are being pulled in opposite directions – pulling, pulling, _pulling_ – and everything goes pitch black.  
  
Then the ship stabilizes with a slight thump, and the darkness clears to reveal a blinding light and a small blue planet, floating gently in the vast expanse of space surrounding it.  
  
“—I hate you. You just had to do it while I was unprepared, didn’t you—”  
  
Chanyeol flicks Sehun in the arm. “Shut up, you’d be complaining either way. But look at that.” He points ahead, and Sehun quiets for a moment.  
  
“Do you think...”  
  
“It’s Earth, isn’t it. It can only be Earth.”  
  
Earth. The elusive planet of the legends, seen only in recreated holographic models and the ancient history memorials that nobody bothered to visit. The rumors surrounding Earth swirled far and wide, ranging from reasons for its demise to the strange creatures that lived and died with the planet: humans. Humans and Earth, both topics banned by the interspace government, naturally became an excellent source for conspiracies. As a space pirate – well, Chanyeol prefers the term ‘smuggler’ – he’s heard his own fair share of stories. But none of those rumors compare to the real thing in front of him right now.  
  
It _is_ blue – but only from far away, where all the colors blur together to form some semblance of a color resembling blue. The closer the ship flies, the clearer Earth becomes, until it encompasses the entirety of their dashboard.  
  
“It’s so... polluted,” Sehun mutters, eyes narrowed.  
  
Sehun’s right. The surface of the planet is marred with ugly, violent scars of brown and red, obscuring the blue-green of the seas and blending in with the desolate, abandoned land masses. Even from here, outside Earth’s direct orbit, Chanyeol can tell that Earth is no longer a healthy planet, a safe place for anyone to inhabit. It looks poisoned.  
  
“Maybe the rumors are true. The humans destroyed their own home.” It’s a little sad, because Chanyeol could never imagine intentionally creating this level of devastation on his own home planet – not even now, when interspace travel has long since become commercialized and standard, and the average creature switches planets five times in a lifespan. But to destroy Earth like this, two millennia ago when interspace travel had only just begun to flourish, is equal to suicide. And Chanyeol realizes, for the first time, that humans might truly be as extinct as the government claimed them to be after all.  
  
“But that doesn’t make any sense,” he says slowly, brows furrowed. “Because why would the government put so much effort into protecting an abandoned, lifeless solar system?”  
  
“What?” Sehun looks over at him oddly, but before he can say anything else, a loud beeping noise jolts through the cockpit. They both focus on the radar automatically, where two foreign objects are slowly moving inching towards their ship at the same time. One is tiny, a small rectangle that’s barely a fraction of their ship size; the other is much larger, and the distinctive triangular shape of the ship makes Chanyeol curse.  
  
He can see Sehun’s smirk from the corner of his eye. “Told you so.”  
  
“I didn’t think the police would be this fast.” Chanyeol sighs. He’s entering the coordinates for another wormhole into the jump drive when Sehun suddenly grabs his wrist, nearly causing him to enter a wrong number. “What the hell?”  
  
“Hold on a second. What’s that?”  
  
Chanyeol looks up in annoyance, scathing words on the tip of his tongue, only to pause. The first object on the radar had originally been much closer to them than the police, close enough that by now, it’s floated into their range of sight – just barely visible, but clearly metallic, glinting in the harsh light of the sun. He wants to write it off as just space junk, leftover scraps of a destroyed ship, but something tugs deep inside him. There’s a reason Chanyeol excels at his job – never once, in his many years as a smuggler, have his instincts failed him.  
  
A sharp burst of static crackles through the cockpit, before a robotic voice intones, “Alert. You are under arrest for trespassing on government-forbidden territory. If you attempt to escape, you will be breaking Code 246 of the Interspace Law—”  
  
“Just try and catch me.” Chanyeol grins, and the familiar electric adrenaline courses through him. His ship is his pride and joy, and he knows for a fact that the (illegal) engines he’s fitted her with far outpower those of the police ships. She sings beneath him as he jumps from first gear to fourth, and they jolt forward, straight towards the metallic box.  
  
“Chanyeol, the wormhole is behind us.” Sehun’s looking at him as if he’s gone insane.  
  
“Trust me,” Chanyeol mutters, before he unlocks the loading hatch located at the bottom of the ship. If he times it just right, he can slide the box into his ship, although at the speed that they’re going, he’ll be lucky that it doesn’t dent the wall of the cargo hold on impact—  
  
There’s a dull slam, and the ship shakes a bit before Chanyeol relocks the loading hatch, cargo safely on board.  
  
Sehun looks faintly impressed. “Nice.” Chanyeol would be more insulted if not for the laser missile that shoots past the left window of the cockpit, missing his ship by a few scant feet.  
  
“Repeat. Unidentified ship, you are under arrest. Comply now and you may receive a—”  
  
“Oh, shut it.” Chanyeol jerks his ship around in a tight arc, so that they’re facing the police. His ship is smaller and lighter than the cumbersome ships the police fly, and it’s easy to dance around their attacks and maneuver behind them to where the wormhole is located. “Sehun. Once we reach the wormhole, activate the jump drive, okay? I’m counting on you.”  
  
“Is this the only reason I’m here? Your wormhole activator?” Sehun grumbles for a bit, but his hand hovers over the lever regardless, and Chanyeol smiles a bit. _That’s_ the reason Sehun is here, because no matter what, he knows he can always trust him. Has always been able to, ever since they were young and alone except for each other.  
  
“—repeat. Unidentified ship, you are under arrest—”  
  
The wormhole, invisible except for the way the light curves around it when the angle is just right, looms before them. Sehun slams down on the lever, and again, there’s a feeling of stretching, pulling, of becoming nothing and everything and clear black light—  
  
Then they’re home, safe, in Junmyeon’s galaxy, and the small blue planet, nestled in stardust and strange wreckage, fades back into one of the many rumors of space.  
  
✯ ✩ ✯  
  
As soon as they’ve stabilized the ship and ensured that the police hadn’t followed them through the wormhole, Chanyeol and Sehun descend into the cargo hold.  
  
The box rests against the far wall, and there are blackened skid marks from where it had scraped along the metal of the floor. It’s unlike anything Chanyeol has ever seen before – and he’s seen a fair amount of oddities during his time as a smuggler. The box is larger than he’d expected, rectangular like the death chambers he knew some species send out into space as a final resting place. The metal itself seems thick and durable, which it must have been in order to survive the unforgiving harshness of space for so long.  
  
“What do you think it is?” Sehun asks, kicking the side of the metal box lightly. There’s a dull thud, but no echo, so something must be occupying the majority of the space inside.  
  
Chanyeol draws closer as well, curious but still wary, one hand hovering near the laser pistol strapped at his waist. The metal is a little dented but otherwise free of all marks, including identifying ones – that is, except for a glowing, blue circle emblazoned in the center of the lid, complete with a white multi-pointed star shining in the middle.  
  
Unconsciously, his hand reaches out towards the circle. His fingers brush the surface just as Sehun notices, and his sharp _“Chanyeol”_ is drowned out by a loud hiss as steam pours out of the cracks in the box. Chanyeol jumps back just in time to avoid the metallic lid as it swings up and out along with the rest of the sides of the box, creating a screeching symphony as they settle on the floor. The steam clears slowly, but when it does, both Chanyeol and Sehun are left stunned.  
  
It’s a capsule of some sort – sleek and long, all steel and crystal glass. But even more astonishing is what lies inside.  
  
Its eyes are closed, pale lips parted just the smallest bit. Its features are similar to his, although Chanyeol knows instinctively that it isn’t a member of his own species. The chest is still, yet the creature doesn’t look dead – or at least, it doesn’t look like any of the pale, rotting corpses Chanyeol has seen. Instead it’s almost as if the creature has been crystallized, frozen in an eternal, quiet sleep.  
  
There’s a beat of silence, the kind that’s so thick it weighs down on your skin, the kind that’s almost tangible. The kind that – in that moment – you know your life is about to change forever.  
  
Then there’s a barely audible click, and a smooth, monotonous voice pours out of the capsule in a language Chanyeol has never heard before, rolling smooth and thick over the vowels. The inside of the capsule fills with a white mist for a brief second, completely cloaking the creature inside. Once it dissipates, Sehun inhales tightly, just a little, and Chanyeol understands why.  
  
It’s breathing, albeit shallowly, barely enough to signal life – but nonetheless, it’s breathing. It’s _alive._  
  
The voice is still speaking, and as they watch, the glass covering the front of the capsule unlocks and slides to the left, slowly, until the creature is completely exposed. The voice finishes, and there’s another pause, heavy and unrelenting.  
  
Then the creature draws in a breath, shuddering slightly, and opens its eyes as it exhales.  
  
In retrospect, the first thought Chanyeol will remember having about Byun Baekhyun is this: he has eyes filled with stars.  
  
The creature blinks fuzzily, and it looks disoriented as it slowly takes in its surroundings. Its lips open and close briefly, before it struggles to sit up, and immediately, Chanyeol’s hand goes back to his gun, cautiously – because no matter how soft and harmless it looked, in space, you could never truly know. The deadliest things are often the ones that look the least dangerous.  
  
It opens its mouth again, and Chanyeol thinks it tries to say something, but instead only a dull rasp comes out, followed by a series of harsh coughs.  
  
“Who are you?” Chanyeol’s voice is louder than he’d intended, and the creature flinches slightly before straightening a little, having managed to sit up.  
  
Then it _does_ speak, softly and a little hoarsely. The only problem is Chanyeol has no idea what its saying. The language seems to be the same as the one earlier, only now that it’s being spoken by something tangible and breathing – it’s melodic, flowing up and down, full of life. And Chanyeol is more than a little captivated.  
  
He breaks out of his spell when the creature begins to look around, obviously starting to panic. Chanyeol sympathizes a little, because he can’t imagine what it would be like to wake up on a foreign ship surrounded by strangers speaking a language he doesn’t understand. Except Chanyeol would never have a problem like that in the first place, because he’s half- _dryagnis_ and wow, Sehun must be right to question his judgment because how could he have forgotten something _so important—_  
  
The creature speaks again, voice lilting upwards in alarm.  
  
This time, Chanyeol listens.  
  
And he learns.  
  
Transcoding always takes a fair bit of energy out of Chanyeol, so he tries not to do it too often. Why should he, when he can better spend that energy on creating fire from nothing and making it dance for him in his palms? In comparison to that, learning a new language is – well, not useless, but certainly time-intensive and exhausting. He can call fire with a snap of his fingers and feel the warmth spark instantly across his hand like a second skin. But transcoding forces Chanyeol to dig deep within himself, past the limitations of his human half and into the _dryagnis_ side he usually keeps firmly buried.  
  
(Because frankly, it scares him a little. The impulses to kill, sometimes. The need to hurt, hurt, _hurt_.)  
  
The syllables start to stitch together in his mind. It’s a fairly straightforward language, with a set alphabet and somewhat clear grammar rules. And for some odd reason, it comes to him much more naturally than any language he’d transcoded before.  
  
Although it hasn’t nearly been long enough for him to grasp a complex understanding of the language, Chanyeol still feels confident enough to repeat: “Who are you?” The words feel clumsy in his mouth, as they usually do before he has a chance to practice. Still, the pronunciation must be close enough, as the creature’s eyes widen almost comically and its mouth drops open in surprise.  
  
“Y-you speak Korean?” it asks, hesitantly.  
  
_Korean._ Chanyeol files the name of the language away for later. It’s not any interspace language he’s heard of, but then again, there are tens of thousands of dialects. “That’s not what I asked you. What’s your name?”  
  
The creature flinches again, infinitesimally but still noticeable enough, and Chanyeol catches the way its eyes flick quickly between him and Sehun. “Baekhyun. Byun Baekhyun.” Then it straightens, abruptly, in a show of defiance that surprises Chanyeol, just a little. But the slight tremor in its voice still betrays it. “I’ve answered your question. The least you could do is answer mine. Where – where am I? What year is it?”  
  
“Year? It’s 2150 A.E.”  
  
Something seems to dawn on the creature’s face, then, something slow and suffocating. It whispers, “A.E.?”  
  
“You don’t know?” Chanyeol frowns. “A.E. After Earth.”  
  
All the color drains out of its face, and Chanyeol can see its hands tighten in its lap, knuckles bone white. “What?” Its voice breaks in the middle, just slightly.  
  
“The interspace government designated a new time era after the destruction of Earth 2150 years ago to memorialize the planet and the humans who went extinct in the aftermath.” Chanyeol pauses as something strikes him. His question earlier shouldn’t have been who are you, but rather, _what_ are you? He’d picked Baekhyun up in Earth’s orbit, yes, but lots of space junk was always being pulled into arbitrary planet and moon orbits. Just because the one cargo he picked up happened to have something sleeping inside ( _which is odd enough, because isn’t cryogenics banned_ ) didn’t mean Baekhyun was a—  
  
“You mean I’ve been asleep... for 2150 _years_?” Baekhyun’s trembling, and so is Chanyeol.  
  
—a human.  
  
“Your kind is supposed to be extinct,” he says numbly. There’s a wild urge to laugh rising inside of him, because how did he get so _lucky_? He visited Earth once and he managed to find a human sleeping inside some metal box? But there was no way Chanyeol was the only smuggler who had ever warped into the Milky Way. Sure, he was faster and better than most others, but if the government kept such a tight lock-down on Earth, there was no way they shouldn’t have found Baekhyun before him.  
  
Unless. Unless Baekhyun wasn’t the first. Wasn’t the only human still alive. And the interspace government had known all along, and had kept it a secret because of that.  
  
Chanyeol’s thoughts are interrupted when Sehun finally gets fed up with not understanding the foreign exchange occurring before him. “What’s going on, Chanyeol? Who is it?”  
  
“A human. It’s a human,” Chanyeol says, and watches Sehun’s eyes widen.  
  
“But they’re—”  
  
“I know. So the question is, why? What else is the government hiding from us?”  
  
Sehun’s eyebrows furrow, and he looks at Baekhyun again, who’s watching them warily. “What are you going to do with it?”  
  
“Its – his. His name is Baekhyun.” Chanyeol sighs, feels the waves of exhaustion rock through him. It’s been too long since he’s last slept. “We can keep him in here until we reach Junmyeon’s. Maybe he’ll know more. The cargo door won’t open anyway unless one of us authorizes it.”  
  
“In here? You know it gets cold in here, especially once we hit fourth gear. The human doesn’t look like it could survive a blast from a paralyzer gun, let alone being thrown around in a freezing cargo hold.” And Sehun’s right, because Baekhyun does look so – fragile. Chanyeol and Sehun are all lean muscle, built from years fighting for pirated goods and natural genetics gifted from their non-human sides. Maybe it’s the long sleep, but Baekhyun just looks... soft. Soft face and soft eyes and soft hands.  
  
He’s really too tired for this. “Okay, just bring him to one of the spare rooms then.”  
  
“Me?” Sehun makes a face. “You’re the one can do the fancy transcoding shit. You do it. I’m going to sleep.” With that, Sehun waves and leaves the cargo hold before Chanyeol can respond.  
  
“Where did he go?” Baekhyun asks, nervousness tinging his voice. “Are you going to kill me?”  
  
Chanyeol heaves a sigh and shoves away sweet thoughts of murdering Sehun in his sleep. He switches back over to Korean and feels his head ache. “No. Sehun’s just a little piece of shit sometimes. Here, can you stand?” At Baekhyun’s suspicious stare, he groans. “I’m not going to do anything to you, okay? You can’t even fight me without breaking something, probably. Let’s just get out of the cargo hold before the temperature starts dropping.”  
  
Baekhyun looks like he wants to argue, but in the end, he closes his mouth and swings his legs over the edge of the metal box. His nose crinkles as he pushes himself to his feet and stands – or, well, he tries to. Chanyeol sees the wobble in Baekhyun’s legs, and before he knows why, he’s rushing to Baekhyun’s side just in time for him to collapse into his arms.  
  
Baekhyun is soft, Chanyeol thinks distantly, and smells unfairly nice for having slept in a metal box for over two millennia.  
  
“Sorry. I’m fine. I can walk.” Baekhyun’s face flushes bright red, and Chanyeol feels something thump once, hard, in his chest.  
  
“Are you sure?” Chanyeol pauses, and when Baekhyun doesn’t immediately pull away, he offers, “You can put your arm around my waist, if you want?”  
  
There’s a beat of silence, before Baekhyun tentatively slips his arm around Chanyeol’s waist. “It’s just because I was asleep for a long time. My muscles haven’t recovered yet.” There’s a defensive, proud note in his voice, and despite the exhaustion weighing down his bones and the entire absurdity of their situation, Chanyeol smiles a little.  
  
“Of course.”  
  
They move slowly out of the cargo hold and down the hallway towards the living quarters. As far as spaceships go, Chanyeol’s is on the smaller side, nearly half of it taken up by the cargo hold. Another quarter is left for the control room, and then there’s just barely enough room to squeeze in three bedrooms, a bathroom, and a kitchen. Chanyeol had taken one and Sehun had taken another, and the third they kept for storage, though they had left the sleep pod in it just in case. Baekhyun could stay there for now; it was either that or the freezing cargo hold, in any case.  
  
They’re just starting down the corridor outside the bedrooms when Baekhyun asks, quietly, “What did you mean earlier?”  
  
“What?” Chanyeol glances down, but Baekhyun is staring resolutely forward.  
  
“When you said my kind was extinct.”  
  
Oh. Chanyeol presses down the urge to sigh again. “This is a conversation we can have later. Here.” He pulls them both to a stop in front of a sleek door, barely distinguishable from the rest of the chrome-coated wall if not for small black thumbpad installed to the right of the door. A quick press of the thumbpad causes the door to slide open silently, revealing a dark room stacked with crates of spare parts and personal belongings that hadn’t fit in either of their own rooms.  
  
It’s far from what Baekhyun must be used to, wherever he lived 2150 years ago before Earth had been destroyed. But it’s all Chanyeol has to offer.  
  
“The sleep pod is in the corner. It should be open already. There are controls on the inside for closing and opening the pod from within. The green is to open, the red is to close. The lights will turn on or off if you clap twice. Just press the sensor for the door to be let out, there’s no passcode. Can you walk now?”  
  
Baekhyun nods and drops his arm from around Chanyeol’s waist, and irrationally, he misses the warmth. Baekhyun takes a few steps forward and braces himself in the doorway, face half-hidden in the shadow of the room. His eyes are filled with something unreadable when he turns back to look at Chanyeol. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this. I don’t... I don’t deserve it.”  
  
Chanyeol opens his mouth, but there’s nothing to say. He doesn’t know Baekhyun or what he’s been through, and he has no right to console him with shallow, meaningless words. Instead, he smiles faintly, and though he knows that the smile doesn’t reach his eyes, he means it when he says, “Sleep well, Baekhyun.”  
  
A ghost of the same smile flits across Baekhyun’s lips, and the door closes behind him as he retreats into the room.  
  
It’s only after Chanyeol has returned to his own room that he identifies the emotion clouding Baekhyun’s face. Sleep comes slowly that night with Baekhyun’s lonely, star-filled eyes imprinted on his mind, until they too blend together with the night sky in a muddy swirl of dreams.  
  
✯ ✩ ✯  
  
The worst part about sleeping on a ship is the inevitable confusion that hits every time Chanyeol wakes up, a blur between day and night rendered indistinguishable in the omnipresent cold blackness of space. It always takes him a few seconds to re-orient, and he lies there, feeling like he’s forgetting something terribly, terribly important—  
  
“Baekhyun,” he gasps, before he sits up too fast and hits his head on the glass cover of the sleep pod. “ _Ow!_ ”  
  
He finally stumbles out of his room a few minutes later, still rubbing the sore spot on his forehead. What time is it? Chanyeol doesn’t even know. It feels like he slept a long time, though, but it’s always like that after he uses up as much strength as he did transcoding. The events of last night haven’t lost their surreal cast. Out of everything he’s ever seen, this might be the strangest one of them all.  
  
“Baekhyun, is everything okay?” he asks as he opens the door to the third bedroom. His voice trails off when he’s greeted with nothing but empty space.  
  
Well, this isn’t good.  
  
“Baekhyun? Baekhyun!” Chanyeol curses, immensely regretting that he had been too tired last night to set a passcode for the door. Sure, there was no way for Baekhyun to get into the cargo hold or the control room without authorization, but it still wasn’t exactly great to let some stranger, some _human_ , wander around his ship unsupervised. His heart rises in his throat, and he nearly crashes into the door of the kitchen when he doesn’t wait long enough for it to open. “Baek—”  
  
“You’re so damn loud,” Sehun says from where he’s sitting at the table, Baekhyun across from him.  
  
Chanyeol pauses and feels the uncharacteristic heat of a blush rise up his neck. “Oh. That’s where you two were.”  
  
Sehun raises an eyebrow at him, and he doesn’t have to say a single word for Chanyeol to know that he’s judging him.  
  
“Is your forehead okay?” Baekhyun pipes up. He looks better than yesterday, eyes more alert with none of the sadness weighing him down. His hair is a little mussed from where he’d slept on it, and the inky black of it blends into the deep navy of space passing by the window behind Baekhyun. “You slept for... How long, Sehun?” He looks at Sehun and mimes being asleep, two hands pillowed beneath his head.  
  
Sehun smirks. “A day and a half.”  
  
“What?” Chanyeol chokes, one hand rubbing his forehead in a half-hearted effort to hide the red spot. So he was a little clumsy, big deal. “That long?” Sehun looks confused, and he realizes belatedly that he had been speaking Korean, not their mother tongue.  
  
“Very long,” Baekhyun adds with a smile that makes Chanyeol’s stomach do a little flip. Or two. “Sehun showed me around a little. He says your name is... Chanyeol?” Chanyeol’s stomach decides to learn gymnastics.  
  
“Idiot,” Sehun adds in slightly accented and broken Korean, pointing at Chanyeol.  
  
“He taught me a little of your tongue, and I taught him some of mine.” Baekhyun pauses. “Hey, how come you can speak Korean and he can’t?”  
  
“I—Sehun and I are different species. We’re both part _dryadalis_ but he’s part _dryantus_ , and I’m part _dryagnis_. In your language, I suppose it would be something like... elf? Sehun is from the wind clan, and I am from the fire clan. Our _dryadalis_ sides allow us to understand language much faster than other species, but because I am more _dryadalis_ than Sehun, I transcode faster.” Chanyeol doesn’t really know why he’s telling all this to Baekhyun, to whom it probably means nothing anyway. But somehow, it matters to him.  
  
“What’s the other part of you then? That’s not _dryadalis_?”  
  
Chanyeol remembers their prematurely ended conversation yesterday and feels the ripples of a headache touch his temples again. “We’re part human, among other things.”  
  
A mix of emotions flit across Baekhyun’s face, too quick for Chanyeol to discern. And that’s something about Baekhyun that he isn’t used to – Baekhyun is so quick to _feel_. So quick to let his disappointment and hope and anger and fear dance across his face for all to see. Maybe two thousand years ago it was different, but here, doing so would only get him killed.  
  
“So some of us must have escaped, right? If you’re part-human, that means not all of us died in the Disaster.” _It’s not just me_ is left unspoken.  
  
Chanyeol feels quiet pity when he responds. “Any part-human ancestry traces much farther back than 0 A.E. It comes from humans who voluntarily left with my people when we came to your planet, right before the brink of your destruction. Not many left with us, and certainly, those who did are all dead now.” And his next words are going to hurt Baekhyun, but he’ll have to know sooner or later. “You’re the only purebred human I’ve ever seen or even heard of. The government has kept a very tight lockdown on anything involving Earth and humans.” _You’re alone. I’m sorry._  
  
“Oh.” Baekhyun is looking at the floor, hands twisting in his lap as his teeth dig harshly into the softness of his bottom lip. “Sorry. I—I need to go.” He stands up abruptly, his chair slamming into the wall, and before Chanyeol can react, he’s hurrying out the kitchen door.  
  
“Good going,” Sehun says. “What’d you say to him?” Chanyeol tells him as he sinks down into the chair Baekhyun had vacated. Sehun sighs. “But we both know it’s highly unlikely he’s the only one left. There’s no way the government has protected Earth that long for no reason.”  
  
“There’s no guarantee that any humans they found are still alive, though,” Chanyeol mutters, and they both grow quiet as they remember the rumors they’ve heard of the government’s labs.  
  
“So what are you going to do?”  
  
Chanyeol rubs his temples, and suddenly misses the sweltering warmth of their home planet. “Go to Junmyeon. We’re going to need a refuel soon anyway, and he’ll want a report on what we found.”  
  
Sehun hesitates. “Are you going to tell him about Baekhyun?”  
  
“I trust Junmyeon.” Chanyeol stares at Sehun, a little challengingly, and Sehun backs off, raising his hands slightly.  
  
“I trust him too. But not everyone who works for him.”  
  
“That’s a chance we’re going to have to take, isn’t it? Until we figure out why the government has been hiding Earth.” Chanyeol sighs and strands, combing his figures through his hair. “I’m going to go check on the autopilot.”  
  
He’s almost out the door when Sehun says, from behind him, “Don’t do anything stupid, Chanyeol. You know he’s human. Nothing good will come out of getting too involved.”  
  
“Quit worrying, I’m not an idiot,” Chanyeol calls as the door slide shut, and pretends not to hear the truth in Sehun’s words.  
  
✯ ✩ ✯  
  
He nearly jumps out of his skin when Baekhyun says from behind him, “Wow, this is a cool room.”  
  
Chanyeol spins around in his chair, narrowing his eyes. “How’d you get in here?”  
  
“Door was open.” Baekhyun casually sinks into the co-pilot seat, leaning forward to peer at the dashboard with interest. “What’s this do?”  
  
“Don’t touch that.” Without thinking, Chanyeol catches Baekhyun’s wrist, and he feels the flinch that runs through Baekhyun. He lets go.  
  
“Sorry. I just. I’m not used to being touched, I guess, after so long.” There’s a silent apology in between Baekhyun’s words, and Chanyeol accepts it, because he remembers how it had felt to only know the heavy touch of loneliness and little else.  
  
“It’s okay.”  
  
Baekhyun leans forward again, looking at the map this time. Dense circles of light shine around the little red blip of their ship – stars, in various stages of their lives, surrounded by orbiting planets and moons. “Where are we?”  
  
“We call this galaxy EXO. Because of the abundance of exoplanets it contains, it’s a popular place for—” Chanyeol cuts himself off before he says _‘smuggling illegal goods.’_ That probably wouldn’t go over too well. “—living. Yeah.”  
  
“How far away are we from Earth?” Chanyeol hesitates, and Baekhyun looks up at him, the sweep of his bangs across his forehead making him look incredibly young. “It’s alright. I’m okay now. I just... needed a few moments. I’ve already said my goodbyes to Earth, anyway, when I chose the Sleeper over staying.” Something bitter crosses his face, and Chanyeol remembers hazily, _‘I don’t deserve it.’_  
  
Chanyeol finally answers, “We’re a little under a million light years away. But we’re only this far because I took a shortcut. Wormholes were discovered about five hundred years ago, and my friend happened to have the code for one that led to your solar system. It would be easy to go back, now that I know it.” Excuses, excuses, but for some reason he feels compelled to make them anyway.  
  
“Interspace travel has come so far, hasn’t it?” Baekhyun slumps back in his chair, staring out the dashboard window stretched wide before them. Millions of stars dot the sky, stretching as far as Chanyeol can see, pinpricks of white in a cloth of black. “So are we going to your friend?”  
  
“Yeah. He’s an... informant, sort of, so he picks up a lot of things.”  
  
“He’ll know what to do with me?” Baekhyun cocks his head up at him, a half-smirk perched on his lips. When Chanyeol sputters, he laughs, and it’s a sound that melts gently into Chanyeol’s body. “Look, I know I’m weak compared to you and Sehun and probably every other species out there. Humans weren’t built to be physically strong. I might even suffocate outside. I need oxygen, you know.”  
  
“Junmyeon’s planet is very oxygen-rich,” Chanyeol finds himself promising, “and—there’s water too. People say it’s a lot like what Earth was.”  
  
“Is it,” Baekhyun says quietly, and Chanyeol decides that the soft sadness doesn’t fit on him. Not as well as laughter.  
  
“It is. It’s not Earth, but it’s beautiful in its own right.”  
  
Baekhyun makes a quiet noise, and turns back to the endless space streaking by their ship. They sit in shared silence for a long time, and faintly, Chanyeol thinks that it’s really kind of ridiculous how comfortable he feels around Baekhyun already.  
  
(Ridiculous, and dangerous.)  
  
✯ ✩ ✯  
  
“I’m hungry,” Baekhyun announces some time later. He stands and perches his hands on his hips, almost imperiously, and looks down at Chanyeol, who’s busy adjusting the fuel levels.  
  
“There are pre-prepared meals in the kitchen.”  
  
“You aren’t even doing anything important right now. The ship flies on its own, doesn’t it? Unless your ship is so mediocre that it needs you here every second it’s flying.”  
  
Chanyeol gapes up at Baekhyun, eyes wide. “What—”  
  
“You coming?” Baekhyun’s already disappearing out the door, and Chanyeol can only stand and follow in a daze. What happened to the quiet Baekhyun that had been present just a moment before?  
  
Baekhyun is rummaging through the pullout freezer by the time Chanyeol gets there. “What is this anyway? I thought space food would’ve improved by now. You guys still eat this? What’s this?”  
  
“Something like bread,” Chanyeol says vaguely, because it’s close enough and he doesn’t know how else to describe it in Korean. “It’s not bad. Here.” He takes it from Baekhyun and opens another compartment to reveal an oven. The heat is comforting against his skin as he flicks it on and places the bread on a pan and shoves it in.  
  
“You don’t have anything to cook with? Is everything pre-made?” Baekhyun looks around the kitchen, which truly just consists of many compartments for food storage and cooking devices slotted in the wall, and a lonely table and matching chairs tucked against the other wall.  
  
Chanyeol leans against the wall next to the oven and crosses his arms. “It’s a little hard to get fresh groceries every week up here, you know.”  
  
Baekhyun frowns. “Still. This is why I never liked space travel. It was difficult enough making an apartment feel like home, and...”  
  
“Not many people stay in one place long enough anymore to have a home. There’s no point in staying on one planet, when you have the entire universe to choose from.”  
  
“I guess.” Baekhyun moves to the window above the table and presses his hand against the glass. For the first time, Chanyeol notices how slender his fingers are, delicate and untouched by labor. Chanyeol’s own hands are scarred and roughened by years spent handling unforgiving crates of cargo. They know too well the intimate grip of a gun. “You don’t ever feel lonely though? Out here? You look out and there’s nothing, only more space and distant stars. It’s suffocating, and everything is just blackness.”  
  
The oven dings, but Chanyeol makes no move to take the bread out. “I love it out here. It gives me freedom. Space is unforgiving, but only if you wrong her. And sometimes, being forgotten isn’t so bad. The anonymity of it, anyway.” And because he can’t resist, he asks, “Why did you choose the... ‘Sleeper’ over Earth then, if you dislike space so much?”  
  
Baekhyun’s hand drops from the window, and when he looks at Chanyeol, his smile looks brittle. “That’s a conversation we can have later,” he says, echoing Chanyeol’s words from last night. “You have your secrets. I have mine. Maybe I’ll tell you after we reach this planet that’s popular for... oh, what was it? ‘Living’?”  
  
Chanyeol freezes, a little guiltily, and Baekhyun laughs again. It’s quieter, but no less warm. “You’re easy to read,” he tells Chanyeol before brushing by him and retrieving the bread from the oven. “Anyone ever tell you that?”  
  
“No, I can’t say anyone has,” he answers honestly, following Baekhyun to the table. “You’re the first.” _The first for many things._ “You’re easy to read too.”  
  
“Am I? Didn’t know you were looking so hard.” Chanyeol flushes, and Baekhyun grins before taking a bite out of the bread. His eyes widen. “Mm. It’s good.”  
  
“Told you so.”  
  
“I concede that your space food has improved over the years. Doesn’t make it any less depressing though, eating in some ship with only a layer of metal to separate you from certain death.”  
  
“That’s a pessimistic way to think,” Chanyeol says to distract himself from the way Baekhyun’s licks his lips after chewing.  
  
He pops the rest of the bread in his mouth and dusts off his hands before replying. “Seeing your own people destroy the only home you’ve ever had kind of does that to you.” He cradles his chin in his hand. “It’s probably good that we went extinct. If we hadn’t destroyed ourselves, we would have destroyed everyone else, sooner or later. That’s just how humans are. Too eager to take, too greedy to appreciate.”  
  
There’s a crumb on Baekhyun’s lip, and Chanyeol unthinkingly reaches out and rubs it off with his thumb. Baekhyun jumps a little again, eyes widening, before his mouth melts into a smirk. “Who gave you permission to touch, Chanyeol?”  
  
“Whether or not humans had a hand in their own destruction has nothing to do with you or your character. Good and evil are far from just black and white,” Chanyeol says seriously, ignoring Baekhyun’s teasing, although his fingers still burn with the feel of Baekhyun’s lips, which falls from a smirk into something hard and tight.  
  
“We were greedy, Chanyeol. I was greedy. So greedy.” And Chanyeol can see the way Baekhyun draws back into himself, closing himself off. The stars are still there, though, in his eyes, reflecting the galaxies spinning by outside. “And, well, here I am now. Paying the price.”  
  
✯ ✩ ✯  
  
Chanyeol wakes up to singing.  
  
At first, it’s such an odd and out of place sound that – for one brief, terrifying moment – he thinks he’s been transported back in time. Back before he started the whole smuggling business began with Sehun, back to when it was just them two scraping by in the streets. Back before the silence of space was all he grew accustomed to hearing.  
  
Then he remembers that he’s here. On his ship, with a human on board. A human whose voice is sending chills up his spine.  
  
Chanyeol manages to open the sleep pod before getting out of it this time, avoiding another ugly bruise. The voice leads him outside in front of the bathroom, and it rings crystal clear over the sound of the water.  
  
It’s a [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LBcR4OkS_tQ) he, of course, doesn’t recognize. But something familiar still aches in his chest at the soaring melody and sadness underlying the notes. He feels oddly invasive standing there, eavesdropping on a moment that he’s not sure Baekhyun would’ve wanted him to overhear. Chanyeol turns to leave, only to jump when he sees Sehun standing behind him, arms crossed.  
  
“I just heard someone singing and came to see what it was,” he says defensively.  
  
“He has a beautiful voice.” Sehun’s eyes are far away, and instinctively, Chanyeol knows what he’s remembering: the roar of the marketplaces where they grew up learning how to thieve, the songs of their clans sometimes sung by street performers during festivals. The quiet hum of a lullaby, only a ghost of the memory it once was, faded by lost time.  
  
He’s become so used to the deafening quiet that it hadn’t even hit him until now how much he had missed... _noise._  
  
“We’ll be at Junmyeon’s in a day. The markets will be loud, since it’s trading time.” Chanyeol isn’t sure whether the empty promises are meant to placate Sehun or himself.  
  
“Loud, yes, but not the same.”  
  
Chanyeol sighs, and heads towards the cockpit. Sehun follows behind, Baekhyun’s lilting voice trailing away behind them.  
  
“No, not the same.”  
  
✯ ✩ ✯  
  
Something on the ship shifts a little with the presence of an additional person. It feels almost wrong the way Baekhyun melds so easily into their lives, some cog in the wheel that Chanyeol hadn’t even known he was missing. It’s already become absurdly normal to turn into the kitchen and find Baekhyun frowning at some new, unfamiliar device or to see him and Sehun in the hallway communicating with an amalgamation of hand signals, Korean, and their native language. To find himself calling out “Baekhyun” just to hear his name roll off Chanyeol’s tongue.  
  
And it scares him. It scares him a little in a way that’s part _dryagnis_ with its primitive wariness of everything unknown, but it mostly scares him because he remembers all too well the taste of abandonment and the way attachment hugs him close first before choking him.  
  
He tries not to let it show, and he’s unsure if Baekhyun notices or not. Either way, this is – impermanent. Their current arrangement is simply a case of circumstances; odd ones, certainly, but circumstances nonetheless.  
  
But all of Chanyeol’s hesitance and fear drains away when he wakes again to quiet singing. This time, he doesn’t jump out of bed. Instead he lies there and listens to the words of a song he doesn’t know. Baekhyun’s feelings shine bright even in his voice – no, _especially_ in his voice, his emotions poured out in the highs and the lows and in heart-wrenching tremors. It’s the same song as yesterday, he recognizes that much, but when Baekhyun reaches the crescendo of the melody, his voice breaks abruptly and becomes masked by the gentle hiss of water. He doesn’t sing again.  
  
Chanyeol’s curiosity is another terrible thing, one that makes him a great smuggler but a rather tactless friend. He sees Baekhyun’s dimmed, reddened eyes, and before he can stop himself, he blurts, “You sing beautifully.” He wants to say, _you sing like the memories of my childhood,_ or _you make me feel at home again, a little,_ but the words just don’t come out.  
  
Baekhyun tenses and straightens. His slightly swollen eyes narrow to glare at Chanyeol with a heat that he doesn’t expect, and his voice has a bite. “Eavesdropping was considered rude in my culture, you know.”  
  
Chanyeol blinks, a bit taken aback. He hadn’t meant to overhear anything, but it was kind of hard to not listen when Baekhyun’s voice carried so well, as if he’d been singing all his life. “I wasn’t—”  
  
“Chanyeol, I need you in the cockpit. We’re docking soon. I sent Junmyeon a message so he knows to expect us.” Sehun pauses, half in and half out of the kitchen where their awkward confrontation is taking place. He asks in stilted Korean, “Everything okay?”  
  
“Just peachy,” Baekhyun mutters before shouldering out the door, bumping into Sehun slightly on the way out.  
  
“I didn’t do anything,” Chanyeol protests at Sehun’s accusing stare. And he hadn’t, at least he doesn’t think so. All he’d done was compliment Baekhyun on his voice, unless that too was a taboo topic around the human. A mix of frustration and confusion consumes his mind; luckily, he’s docked at Junmyeon’s port frequently enough that he can do it on autopilot, even as preoccupied as he is.  
  
It’s a short walk from the ship to Junmyeon’s house, but it’s still crowded enough at this time of day that Chanyeol is wary of letting Baekhyun walk freely about in all his human glory. He hesitates for a second before knocking on Baekhyun’s little storage room bedroom. It slides open a few moments later to reveal a blank-faced Baekhyun, and Chanyeol wilts a little on the inside. Nevertheless, he holds out one of his spare cloaks.  
  
“We’re at Junmyeon’s place now. He told me that the gravity and air composition are fairly close to what Earth’s used to be like, so you shouldn’t have any problems moving around, but you should still wear the cloak to remain inconspicuous. Make sure you keep the hood up. Don’t talk to anyone, it’ll be suspicious because you don’t know the mother tongue. Stay close to me.” Baekhyun’s face darkens with each rule Chanyeol piles on.  
  
“I got it already.” Baekhyun snatches the cloak from Chanyeol in one sharp tug and pulls it on. Because Chanyeol is quite a bit taller, the fabric pools around Baekhyun’s feet endearingly, sleeves falling past his hands. Baekhyun notices this as well, and he scowls, pushing the fabric irritably up his arms only to have them cascade right back down. Giving up, he sweeps them out to the side in a grandly sarcastic gesture. “Well? Lead the way.”  
  
With a sigh, Chanyeol rejoins Sehun at the loading door. He adjusts his own cloak, pulling the hood over his unruly hair, and wonders if all humans used to be this emotional.  
  
Baekhyun stamps angrily behind him, nearly crushing his heel, and Chanyeol decides that yes, they must have been.  
  
✯ ✩ ✯  
  
Junmyeon’s planet is beautiful, in an eerie way. The sun hangs low and heavy in the sky. Despite the enormity of its sun, however, the planet is still the same mild, warm temperature Chanyeol has always remembered it to be, most likely due to the water covering the majority of the surface. It takes his eyes a moment to adjust to the dim, reddish lighting coating the planet.  
  
“Why is the sun pink?” he hears Baekhyun mumble. “And why is the sky red?”  
  
And then Chanyeol remembers that this is likely Baekhyun’s first time ever on another planet. Due to his dislike towards space travel, he probably hadn’t even visited any of the other planets in his solar system before Earth’s destruction.  
  
Unconsciously, he reaches backwards and finds Baekhyun’s hand through the velvety fabric of the cloak. Baekhyun jumps a little when he squeezes it in what he hopes is a semblance of reassurance, and then Chanyeol lets go – or at least, he tries to. Instead, Baekhyun suddenly grips his hand, the layer of fabric still separating them, and lets the tremors in his fingers be steadied by Chanyeol’s palm.  
  
“Let’s go,” Chanyeol murmurs.  
  
The door to his ship locks automatically behind them. Junmyeon’s dock is only a short distance from his house, and they reach it quickly, hastened by the fast pace Chanyeol sets. He feels Baekhyun trotting a little to keep up, but the human doesn’t complain, too busy gaping at everything that he sees. Luckily Junmyeon is rich off of the information network he’s spent his entire life creating, so his house is built further away from the general hustle of the markets with a private dock to boot, and there aren’t too many other creatures around. The house is built on the edge of the cliff, overlooking the still, placid waters the planet is known for, and the path up to the front gates winds along the cliff. Even having seen it as many times as he has, it’s still an incredible view.  
  
“Is the water always this red?” Baekhyun whispers as they reach the front gates. “Sorry, I know you told me not to talk, I just—”  
  
“Most of the time, yes, because it reflect the sun,” Chanyeol answers, feeling Baekhyun’s warm, delicate fingers twitch in his grasp. Sehun enters a code into the touch-panel, and the gates swing open. “Once an orbit, though, the sun sets and the waters glow blue and white. Maybe... maybe you will see it one day.”  
  
“Yes, I’d like that,” Baekhyun says softly, before Chanyeol leads them inside.  
  
Junmyeon’s home is all polished, austere mineral, soaring ceilings, and mazes of rooms. Even Chanyeol isn’t sure how deep into the cliff it delves. Junmyeon greets them in the lobby, weak reddish light streaming in through the barred openings above the door that act as windows. Some planets are plagued by storms, Chanyeol knows, but for all the water on Junmyeon’s planet, he’s never seen a single drop fall from the sky, so protection for the windows are unnecessary.  
  
“You’ve returned alive,” Junmyeon says, opening his arms wide and smiling his typical, slightly disarming smile.  
  
“You were probably wishing I would get caught by the police when you gave me those coordinates, weren’t you,” accuses Chanyeol, no real sting behind his words. Not for Junmyeon, at any rate. Never for Junmyeon. He’s done too much for Chanyeol.  
  
“Nonsense. Although a little lesson in caution would never hurt.” Junmyeon glances over at Sehun, who nods back lazily. “Hello, Sehun. I see you still haven’t murdered Chanyeol.”  
  
Sehun yawns, stretching his long limbs in the air. “Not yet. But it’s been an interesting few days.”  
  
“Ah.” Junmyeon lets his gaze wander from Sehun to Chanyeol, before it zeroes in on Baekhyun in a way that Chanyeol knows is intentional. He hadn’t missed the additional presence; he’d merely ignored it, as Junmyeon was wont to do, until it was time to address it. “This must be the source of the entertainment, I presume. It’s lovely. Did you pick it up outside Earth?”  
  
“ _His_ name is Baekhyun.”  
  
Junmyeon looks at Chanyeol, and the depths of his eyes are as endless as the water he was born from. In that moment, Chanyeol is reminded again of just how much older Junmyeon is compared to him or Sehun. Maybe not quite as old as Baekhyun, if they count his years asleep, but nearly.  
  
“His name is Baekhyun,” Junmyeon repeats. His gaze tracks deliberately down Chanyeol’s arm, and Chanyeol lets go of Baekhyun’s fingers like they burn. Instantly, he feels the loss, acute and branded into his palm, but it’s too late. “I see. You can communicate with the human?”  
  
Chanyeol stiffens. “How did you know?” _That Baekhyun is human?_  
  
Sometimes, he really hates the way Junmyeon just _looks_ , looks and looks without saying anything, eyes reflecting nothing but the red depths of the waters outside his home. Finally, he says, “You’re still young, Chanyeol. There’s much you do not know, and could not know, because of what the government has hidden.”  
  
Sehun takes a step forward, and the sound reverberates hollowly in the lobby. “So it’s true? There are more humans that the government has been hiding? They aren’t extinct?”  
  
“Baekhyun is, most assuredly, not the first of his kind to be found, and he most likely will not be the last either. I cannot say for certain, however, if he is alone or not. The government tends to prefer their prisoners dead.” Sehun and Chanyeol both wince at the truth in Junmyeon’s words. “As to why they are collecting these humans, neither I nor my informants have heard anything. They have always been unusually tight-lipped about Earth, as I’m sure you know. Was there anything strange about how you found Baekhyun?”  
  
“He was... in a box,” Chanyeol recalls slowly. “A long metal box that unfolded to reveal a glass capsule. Baekhyun called it a ‘Sleeper.’” He then tells Junmyeon everything he remembers, from activating _something_ by touching the glowing blue circle to the steam and the strange monotone voice to the moment Baekhyun woke up and realized he had been asleep for 2150 years.  
  
Junmyeon’s expression is pensive when Chanyeol finishes. He hums for a few moments, pressing a hand to his chin, before he turns to Baekhyun. “Translate for me, Chanyeol, would you? Could you ask Baekhyun if he would be willing to share the details of Earth’s destruction?”  
  
Chanyeol turns to Baekhyun for the first time since they had entered, and he regrets not doing so earlier. Baekhyun’s eyes are wide, and at this distance, he can see the way his hands tremble just barely. He repeats the question to Baekhyun.  
  
There’s a slow blink. Then all of a sudden, the trembling stops, and Baekhyun flattens his lips in the same obstinate line Chanyeol remembers from the ship when he had complimented his singing.  
  
“ _He_ wants to know?” Baekhyun jerks a thumb at Junmyeon. “No.”  
  
“What—”  
  
“I don’t trust him.” Baekhyun crosses his arms, and the fire is back. “Look at his weird eyes.”  
  
Hopelessly lost, Chanyeol translates Baekhyun’s words back to Junmyeon. Out of all the reactions, however, he doesn’t expect Junmyeon to start laughing.  
  
“Your eyes are pretty creepy,” Sehun comments.  
  
“He’s not the first to have said that,” agrees Junmyeon. He smiles, now, a more genuine one that Chanyeol realizes abruptly he’s missed.  
  
“Do you want me to ask again?” Chanyeol tries. Baekhyun seems to know what he’s asked, however, and his fingers pinch painfully into Chanyeol’s side. “Ow!”  
  
Junmyeon shakes his head, amusement still written across his features. “It’s okay. He must be disoriented still. Gain his trust a little more, and then we can ask again. I’m sure you all must have missed having a real bed while journeying in space. Feel free to rest in your usual rooms for as long as you need. Just ring me if you need anything.”  
  
“Thank you for your hospitality. If there’s anything I can do—”  
  
“You’ve done plenty enough for me, Chanyeol.” Junmyeon waves his hand dismissively, and his skin begins to drip in the tell-tale way it does when he’s about to dissolve and depart. “At least let me give you a home.”  
  
Then Junmyeon is nothing more than a puddle that soaks up through the rocky, smooth ground of the lobby, leaving the three of them alone.  
  
A beat of silence.  
  
“What the _hell_?”  
  
✯ ✩ ✯  
  
The rooms they usually stay in when visiting Junmyeon are fairly close to the lobby. Chanyeol quickly locates a spare room just slightly further down the hall from his and Sehun’s, and Baekhyun looks grateful when he sees a bed and not another sleep pod. Chanyeol shares the sentiment; the sleep pods are comfortable enough, but in the end they are still designed for safety and not luxury.  
  
“The bathroom is back there, a little before my room. We’ll stay here for the night. Don’t wander too much, you’ll get lost,” he can’t help but advise, knowing from experience the confusion of Junmyeon’s labyrinth of a house.  
  
Thankfully, Baekhyun seems to have thrown off the earlier shock of a new environment, and something bubbles happily in Chanyeol’s chest when Baekhyun scowls ferociously. “Don’t tell me what to do.”  
  
“Just some friendly advice,” Chanyeol sing-songs before heading back to his own room, feeling Baekhyun’s glare on his back.  
  
If he’s being honest, Junmyeon’s house is the closest Chanyeol has ever gotten to a second home. His first home will always be the planet he and Sehun were born on, but that home hurts as much as it heals. Too many memories, both good and bad, remain with it. His ship isn’t so much of a home as it is some irreplaceable part of him, and he needs it the same way he needs his eyes and mouth and ears. His ship is what gives him freedom. (And the excuse to run.)  
  
He keeps some of his belongings here – but not everything, never everything, because then he’ll still be tethering too much of himself to one place. But he trusts Junmyeon, nonetheless, and trusts him enough to leave his prized, beautiful guitar here.  
  
In reality, the instrument’s true name is not ‘guitar’ at all, instead some rolling variation of it in a language Chanyeol can’t pronounce and is too lazy to be bothered to transcode. He had seen the guitar for sale in the market one day and just knew, deep in his bones, that it was meant to be his. When the merchant had told Chanyeol it was based off of an ancient human instrument called a guitar, he had adopted it without a second thought, much preferring the easier human word. The guitar was easy to learn, and the gentle sound comforting like the folksongs of his youth. He’d kept it onboard his ship at first until a particularly violent raid had snapped one of the strings. After that, Junmyeon agreed to store it for him until he came back to visit.  
  
Chanyeol knows it’s just his imagination, but the instrument seems to hum and come to life when he sits on his bed and cradles it in his lap. It’s a deep, russet-brown – _almost the color of Baekhyun’s eyes,_ something in his mind whispers, and he plucks one of the strings a little too hard when he’s tuning.  
  
He’s running through some warmups when he hears a light rap against the door. Sehun opens it a second later. His hair is slicked back and his eyes are smudged with kohl around the corners, giving him a dangerous, feline look. “I’m going out tonight. Wanna come with?”  
  
On any other day, Chanyeol would’ve said yes in a heartbeat. It does get lonely out in space after a while, and it’s not like he’s ever had trouble picking up a warm body for the night to keep him company. But today, for some reason, Baekhyun’s star-filled eyes flash across his mind, and he hesitates. “Maybe next time. Baekhyun would probably panic if we both left.”  
  
“Sure.” Sehun drawls out the first word annoyingly long, smirking. “That’s why.”  
  
“Shut up. Go find your little deer-spirit, I know you’re meeting up with him tonight,” Chanyeol grumbles, and it’s worth finally letting his ace slip to see the unexpected shock flash across Sehun’s features. _That’s right, I knew all along._  
  
“Fine. You win this time, but I’ll get you,” Sehun threatens, no heat in his words. “See you tomorrow.”  
  
“Close the door!” Chanyeol shouts after him, but Sehun is already gone.  
  
Chanyeol loses himself back in the music easily, casting aside thoughts of Baekhyun and letting himself relax again after a long time in space. He fluctuates between snippets of current popular songs and melodies reminiscent of their clan songs. He’s in the middle of an improvised, slow ballad when he hears a knock against his doorframe. Without looking up, he calls out, “Did you forget something, Sehun?”  
  
“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not Sehun.”  
  
The unexpected Korean startles him, and Chanyeol’s fingers slip loudly against the strings and he jerks his head up, eyes wide. “Baekhyun?”  
  
“That’s my name, yes,” Baekhyun says, and he steps in the room. “Please, by all means, don’t stop because of me.”  
  
He’s shed the oversized cloak (much to Chanyeol’s disappointment), and instead has managed to find a form-fitting, sleek all-black ensemble which hugs his thighs rather distractingly (not to Chanyeol’s disappointment). Chanyeol’s fingers strum once against the guitar and nearly slip again, and he sets it down before he breaks another string. “It’s fine, my fingers were getting tired anyway. Where’d you get the change of clothes?”  
  
“Ah, these? Junmyeon gave them to me. They’re a lot more comfortable than they initially look.” Baekhyun pinches the fabric experimentally.  
  
“You talked to Junmyeon?” Chanyeol asks, a note of alarm creeping into his voice. Junmyeon had promised not to pry, for now at least, so he isn’t worried, but something about other creatures talking to Baekhyun one-on-one without him makes him a little—  
  
(Jealous.)  
  
“Well, no, he just came in and left the clothes. You should apologize for me later. I wasn’t exactly polite earlier.” Baekhyun pauses, before wrinkling his nose in a way that looks entirely too endearing. “By the way, what is Junmyeon?”  
  
“What is he?” Chanyeol repeats, and then laughs when he remembers Baekhyun’s earlier _‘what the hell’_ after Junmyeon had dissolved into water. “Oh. I forget you aren’t familiar with most of the species in space. Junmyeon is a type of water spirit. He rose many, many years ago from the waters of this planet.”  
  
“How come he just... you know. Turned into water?”  
  
“That’s his natural form. It’s kind of hard to explain, but Junmyeon is more-so made of spiritual matter than tangible matter. He can change forms at will.”  
  
Baekhyun frowns a little. “So why does he choose to take on the shape of a human? He didn’t seem to know much about us.”  
  
Chanyeol hesitates. “I... I don’t know.” Now that he thinks about it, ever since Junmyeon saved him and Sehun from the interspace police that day too many years ago to count, he had always preferred a humanoid shape. It must have something to do with his willingness to give Chanyeol the coordinates to the Milky Way wormhole, something to do with the way his ocean-eyes darken incrementally when humans are mentioned. But that’s a past even Chanyeol isn’t willing to dig up.  
  
“Are there are species out there who look like you?” Baekhyun’s question breaks into his thoughts. “I mean – so human.”  
  
“No. As far as I know, the _dryadalis_ clan is the only one who continues to carry on the most humanoid aspects.”  
  
Baekhyun’s sudden mischievous grin is the only warning he has before Baekhyun leans forward and pinches his ear lightly. Chanyeol can’t help but flinch away, the contact shooting small lightning bolts of sensation through him. “Hey, don’t do that!”  
  
“Sensitive ears, huh? You know, I didn’t think they were real when I first saw you. They look like the elf ears from our fairytales.” It’s almost worth the tingling in his ear when Baekhyun smiles like the light of a star breaking across the horizon.  
  
“So is that what you noticed first? My large ears?” Chanyeol is only a little sour. _(He has eyes filled with stars.)_  
  
Baekhyun hums noncommittally and sits down next to Chanyeol on the bed, making it dip a little. He’s suddenly too aware of the scant handbreadth between them. “Well, no. Have you ever looked at yourself in a mirror? It’s as if ... you’re glowing. Something is glowing beneath your skin.”  
  
Ah. Yes.  
  
His fire.  
  
But it’s not something he dares to tell Baekhyun. Not yet, not when he still doesn’t know how long he would be able to keep him. So, instead, Chanyeol laughs awkwardly, because he wants to be able to spend at least a few more days by Baekhyun’s side without scaring him away. (And he tries not to think about why.)  
  
“It must’ve been just another trick of the light.”  
  
“If you say so,” Baekhyun answers. Luckily (or unluckily), his curiosity seems more boundless than Chanyeol’s, and he jumps quickly to the next topic without digging further into Chanyeol’s response. “By the way, are you an illegal trader?”  
  
Maybe they should’ve just stayed on the previous topic. Chanyeol’s look of surprise is all the answer Baekhyun needs. He claps his hands together excitedly and bounces a little on the bed, and it would be extremely adorable if not for the fact that Chanyeol is still trying to figure out where the question had even come from.  
  
“Lucky guess! You just seemed super suspicious with the cloaks and the fighter ship and your secret friend Junmyeon who lives in some cliff-side mansion. Sehun might also have let something slip about the police chasing you the other day. I don’t mind, though. I know you’re not a bad person. You would’ve killed me already if you were.” Baekhyun quirks his lips a little.  
  
Chanyeol sighs. So much for keeping that concealed. “Well, now you know. I think it’s only fair that you tell me a secret of yours, in exchange for mine.” It’s a little dirty, but he really just wants to know more about Baekhyun. He’s half-expecting another close-lipped swerve around the issue, the way it was dodged before in the kitchen of the ship, but – well, Baekhyun never ceases to surprise him. That much, he’s learned.  
  
“I suppose you’re right.” Baekhyun pauses, and his eyes fall on the guitar resting at their feet. “I owe you an apology, as well. I’m sorry about how I snapped at you earlier today when you complimented my singing. I—” His face twists a little, and he draws in a quick breath and plunges on before Chanyeol can say ‘never mind.’ “On Earth, I used to be a singer. A performer. I didn’t expect anything when I first debuted, and before I knew it, I had somehow become the face of my country. So many people looked up to me.”  
  
The look is back on his face, the one that reminds Chanyeol of the whispered _‘I was greedy’_ s and the _‘I don’t deserve it’_ s. It’s a look that twists his insides, and although he doesn’t really understand why Baekhyun was so tight-lipped about being a singer, he knows that there are some things that are still too soon to be said. So he does the only thing he can think of.  
  
“Sing with me?” he offers, picking up the guitar and readying it in his lap.  
  
It takes a moment for the look to clear from Baekhyun’s eyes, but it does, and he offers a tremulous smile in return. “Sure.”  
  
They don’t know any of the same songs, naturally, but Baekhyun is skilled at improvisation and spins little melodies from nothing to pair with Chanyeol’s chords. It goes on like this for a long time, and at some point they move so they’re both leaning against the headboard.  
  
What must be hours later, Baekhyun yawns and sinks down so that he’s lying fully on the bed, eyes sleepy. “Play me a lullaby, Chanyeol. Surely you must know some.”  
  
He does – the one whose ghost haunts him with the sweet voice of a mother he doesn’t remember. He’s never sung it out loud before, not even to Sehun, but for some reason it doesn’t feel so wrong to sing it now. It flutters in his chest, and he thinks, this must be what it feels like to let a burden go.  
  
Chanyeol’s voice is a little raspy and unsteady, but the [melody](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nfoHn3Wiv1Q) is clear. When he finishes, it feels like something has shifted, just a little – between him and Baekhyun or just within himself, he can’t tell. But something has changed.  
  
He looks at Baekhyun, peacefully asleep, and lets a small smile curl across his lips.  
  
Maybe a change isn’t so bad after all.  
  
✯ ✩ ✯  
  
When Chanyeol wakes the next morning, the bed is empty, and his guitar is placed carefully along the wall. He must’ve fallen asleep without realizing it the night before, and he’s grateful that Baekhyun took the time to move the instrument.  
  
He takes a quick shower before heading to Sehun’s room, only to find it empty. He must be out still with the deer-spirit he tried so hard to hide from Chanyeol.  
  
But where is Baekhyun? He checks the rooms nearby, and still finds nothing. It isn’t till he’s beginning to feel the smallest dredges of panic that he finds Baekhyun outside, sitting along the edge of the cliff, highlighted against the red light of the sun.  
  
“Hey.”  
  
“Good morning,” Baekhyun says without looking back at Chanyeol. “Or is it morning? I can’t tell anymore. The sun didn’t set last night.”  
  
Chanyeol looks up at the sky. The sun has descended more compared to yesterday, but it is still a fair distance from the horizon. “No, the sun on this planet doesn’t set at night. It should set in a few weeks, give or take.”  
  
“And then the waters glow, right?”  
  
Chanyeol raises an eyebrow. “You remembered.”  
  
“Of course I did,” is all Baekhyun says, kicking his legs a little. The water laps against the rock of the cliff far below, and the height is enough for Chanyeol to coax Baekhyun back from the edge.  
  
“I’m going to the market today.”  
  
“The market?” Baekhyun finally glances at Chanyeol before standing and making his way back over. “Can I come?”  
  
He wants to refuse, instinctively, because there’s still too much Baekhyun doesn’t know about this world, this strange future he’s woken up in. But there’s a glimmering, unspoken plea in Baekhyun’s eyes, and – he can’t bring himself to say no. Baekhyun kind of looks like the loyal nighthound Chanyeol had kept for a bit when he was a kid on the streets, or at least the way the nighthound used to look when it begged for a share of Chanyeol’s food.  
  
“Okay,” he sighs, “but you have to wear your cloak. And remember what I said yesterday about staying with me. You can’t speak either.”  
  
He’s half-expecting another angry retort like the ones he got yesterday, but instead Baekhyun smiles wide and chirps, “Okay!” Something jumps in Chanyeol’s stomach. He ignores it.  
  
They retrieve their cloaks, hoods flipped up just in case, and after a moment of hesitation, Chanyeol grabs his gun and holsters it. It’s the black market, yes, but he hasn’t heard reports of any particularly dangerous smugglers in town or of the police. Usually, he’s fine without a weapon with just his fire as protection. But usually, he also doesn’t have a very fragile human to protect.  
  
The market is a distance away from Junmyeon’s house. It’s built like a small town, albeit with more vendors and stalls than houses, although Chanyeol is still quite sure that a few of the merchants camp out there nightly. His apprehension swells again when they finally near the market and the roar of the crowd brushes over them. It’s already midday, and the market is full of smugglers briefly refueling or residents of Junmyeon’s planet shopping.  
  
Then Baekhyun’s hand slips into his, and he can’t help but look back.  
  
Instead of the nervousness or fear from yesterday, Baekhyun’s eyes are filled with excitement. He points at a vendor nearby selling some kind of meat on a stick and tugs at Chanyeol’s hand once like a kid, eyes pleading. Chanyeol relents. He’s hungry too.  
  
As soon as they’re done eating, Baekhyun is off again. He’s still holding onto Chanyeol’s hand, but now it’s as if Baekhyun is leading, weaving them through the crowds as he peers at the different stalls and the wares collected (illegally) from an eclectic mix-mash of planets. There are hides from the great beasts of the planet closest to the sun and bottled stardust from the asteroid belt a few light years away. There are weapons forged from the heat of dying stars and astronomically priced rare gems from the depths of nearby moons. Most of the wares are of no interest to Chanyeol; either their quality is too low or their price is too high. In any case, it’s not as if it’s so hard for Chanyeol to find the goods himself.  
  
Baekhyun is fascinated, however, by everything. Not just the vibrant, dyed cloths and the ancient moonrocks, but also the throng of creatures all around them. Large, small, four-legged, two-legged, six-legged, beast-like to vaguely humanoid, in all the colors of a prism – all combinations exist.  
  
There’s something about the way Baekhyun acts in the market that makes it come alive. For as long as he can remember, Chanyeol’s never been completely comfortable in it – probably some leftover remnant of his childhood as a thief, a role necessary for survival but still one that had confined him to the shadows. Even as a trader, he preferred to buy and sell his goods immediately and then leave. But Baekhyun – human, newly reborn in a world that knew nothing of his kind – should, by all rights, be distrustful of everything new he encounters. Everything unfamiliar. Yet Chanyeol’s never seen him so excited, so happy, and for the first time, he starts to relax a little in the market as well.  
  
That is, until someone knocks into him.  
  
Two things happen at once. Upon impact, he stumbles back a little, and Baekhyun’s hand slides out of his grip. His hood falls back, and he can hear the audible hush roll through the members of the crowd near him.  
  
Ah. Now he remembers why he had disliked the market.  
  
There’s a few moments of hushed quiet. Then the creatures closest to him begin to push back through the crowd frantically, leaving a wide berth of space around him, and the whispers begin.  
  
_“He’s back!”  
  
“Is it really him? I heard—”  
  
“Can’t you tell? His ears and his hair, red as fire.”  
  
“The Phoenix.”  
  
“Stay away from him.” _  
  
Chanyeol sighs once, deeply, before turning back to search through the crowd. The creatures who accidentally meet his gaze flinch and hurriedly back away. Where did Baekhyun go? It’s a little too late now, but he flips his hood back up anyway and strides into the crowd, watching with mild amusement as the creatures in his path scramble to get out of the way. Luckily, he catches sight of Baekhyun’s small figure at the stall of a jewelry merchant.  
  
Baekhyun turns as Chanyeol approaches, smiling. The merchant glances up too, and pales when he catches a glimpse of Chanyeol’s features close up. “Oh. T-the Phoenix. What brings you here today?”  
  
Baekhyun glances back at the merchant, eyes narrowing at the blatant fear on the creature’s vaguely lizard-like face. He looks back at Chanyeol, who scowls at the merchant.  
  
“We’re leaving,” he says in Korean, ignoring the wealth of ears around him. With any luck, now that they know who he is, they’ll chalk Korean up to some rare language he picked up on the side. There’s a grain of truth in it, after all.  
  
“What—” begins Baekhyun, but Chanyeol is already grabbing his hand again and pushing through the crowd. He can still hear his name – and the name they gave him – reverberating through the crowd, and he would just much rather leave before he draws more attention to himself and Baekhyun.  
  
The walk back is filled with a brittle silence, and it isn’t till they’re back at the house that Baekhyun tugs gently at his hand. “Hey.”  
  
Chanyeol doesn’t stop until they reach the corridor their rooms are in. Finally, he drops Baekhyun’s hand and pushes back his hood, spinning around so fast that Baekhyun takes a step back, startled.  
  
“What?”  
  
“What’s wrong?” Baekhyun asks, pushing back his own hood as well. There’s something terrifyingly close to genuine concern on his face, which Chanyeol doesn’t understand because how can he possible feel _concerned_ over Chanyeol when he barely even knows him?  
  
Chanyeol rakes a hand through his hair. His stupid, cursed red hair, the one that drew everyone’s attention, both good and bad. “Nothing.”  
  
“There must be something. Why...” Baekhyun hesitates for moment. _Don’t ask,_ Chanyeol wants to tell him. But Baekhyun asks anyway. “Why were they all afraid when they saw you?”  
  
He suddenly feels tired, very tired. “Why do you want to know?” He looks stubbornly at the stone of his door.  
  
There’s a gentle tug at his wrist, and he can’t help but look back. Baekhyun is serious, and none of the earlier mirth is present in his eyes. “I’m not going to run, Chanyeol. I won’t leave you. I have nowhere to go, after all.”  
  
And it’s a little different from _I want to stay here, I won’t leave you because I don’t want to, not because I can’t,_ but – Chanyeol will take it. He’s tired and lonely but something deep down craves this. And he succumbs.  
  
Chanyeol gently breaks free from the grip on his wrist, and a glimmer of hurt dances across Baekhyun’s eyes. Chanyeol ignores it and, like the day he woke up Baekhyun, he draws deep on the energy contained within him. It flows through him easily, rushing up his chest and down through his arms and if not for the dark fabric of the cloak, he knows he would be able to see his veins glow gold under his pale skin. He holds his hand palm-up, and heat builds, builds and builds and builds until something snaps—  
  
A flame bursts to life in his palm, flickering and jumping as if alive. And, in a way, it is alive. Alive with Chanyeol’s soul.  
  
His heart is beating fast, too fast to be blamed for the simple exertion of calling forth a weak flame. He doesn’t want to look at Baekhyun. He doesn’t want to see the same look in his eyes as in the eyes of the creatures at the market.  
  
Something touches the back of his hand, gently, and his head jerks up.  
  
“It’s beautiful. Did you make this?” Baekhyun cups Chanyeol’s hand with two of his, gently, and the warmth in his eyes is enough to make something rise and rise in Chanyeol’s chest until he thinks it’s going to overflow. The flame sparks and bursts higher, crackling in delight.  
  
“You’re not afraid?” he can’t help but whisper, watching the way the fire throws shadowed patterns across the delicate slopes of Baekhyun’s face.  
  
Baekhyun meets his eyes squarely. “No.”  
  
“Oh.” Chanyeol watches the way his fire jumps at that. It always did reflect his emotional state most likely far more than was healthy. He was never the best among his clan at controlling fire, after all, but there had been nobody there to truly teach him.  
  
“Were they afraid of this? Of your fire?” Baekhyun frowns. “That’s silly.”  
  
That forces a laugh out of Chanyeol, and in turn, Baekhyun smiles too. “Not just my fire, but that’s a large part of it. I suppose our inhuman sides never received a chance to properly adapt to fire, and so the majority of species in space are still fearful of my clan.” He pauses, then admits, “I also have somewhat of a bad reputation among the smugglers. They call me the Phoenix.”  
  
Now Baekhyun definitely looks amused, and Chanyeol feels his blush creep up to his ears. “The Phoenix, huh?”  
  
“It’s the name of my ship,” he mumbles defensively, before letting the fire seep back into his palm. The energy reabsorbs into his skin with a warm glow, and Baekhyun looks intensely at his hand.  
  
“I told you. You glow,” Baekhyun accuses him.  
  
Chanyeol drops his hand, and Baekhyun’s hands drop as well. Still, the warmth lingers on the back of his hand, and he feels... happy. “Maybe.”  
  
“Liar.”  
  
And it’s easy. So, so easy.  
  
He can’t help it.  
  
He lets himself go, the tiniest bit, and begins to fall.  
  
✯ ✩ ✯  
  
The next day, Sehun returns and asks if they want to go to the market with him so he can pick up some things before they leave. Baekhyun glances worriedly at Chanyeol when he shrugs and agrees.  
  
“Are you sure?” he whispers as they head out of Junmyeon’s house again.  
  
“I’m fine. But thank you.”  
  
Baekhyun nods and falls in line between Sehun and Chanyeol, where they had agreed that it was the safest for him to walk, now that there were three of them.  
  
It isn’t as if Chanyeol fears going to the market or trading. He doesn’t mind the wide berth most creatures give him after they discover his true identity or the whispers and the stares that follow. (To be honest, it stokes his ego a little, which Sehun never fails to point out.) He just dislikes being openly in a place so crowded; after all, as a child, he had been used to watching the marketplace from the shadows, not from within it. It still throws him off a little to be surrounded by so much energy, so much distraction.  
  
Yesterday... well, yesterday, he had been afraid of Baekhyun discovering why everyone feared him. But even after Chanyeol had shown him his fire, Baekhyun hadn’t ran away. He had stayed, and the thought brings a little smile to his lips.  
  
The market is just as crowded as yesterday, only this time, Chanyeol has chosen to leave his hood down, and they move through the throng much more quickly. Despite having seen most of it yesterday, Baekhyun is still just as excited, tugging on Chanyeol’s hand and pointing at anything and everything. They receive some strange looks, probably because most creatures are used to Sehun being Chanyeol’s only companion. He isn’t too worried, but he still makes sure Baekhyun’s hood shrouds his features and keeps them hidden.  
  
At one point or another, Sehun disappears to look at some of the recently developed spacesuits, designed for maximum speed and litheness. By some stroke of luck, the two of them end up back at the same jewelry merchant Baekhyun had been at the day before. The merchant blanches a little upon seeing Chanyeol.  
  
“H-hello again,” he says, bowing, false bravado in his voice. “Please. Take a look at my wares.”  
  
Baekhyun is already peering at the delicately cut gems, some strung on thin strings and others soldered into light bands of metal. Suddenly, he grabs Chanyeol’s hand and points to one of the necklaces, nearly hidden underneath a heap of bracelets.  
  
“Do—do you like this one?” The merchant hastily picks up the necklace and shoves it at Baekhyun, who recoils a little at the creature’s sharp claws. Chanyeol glares at the merchant, who too flinches. “H-here! I’ll give it to you for free. Please accept it.”  
  
“Thanks,” Chanyeol says, reaching out above Baekhyun’s head and taking the necklace. “Let’s go.” His hand finds Baekhyun’s again, and he leads him away from the busier part of the market to the quiet of a nearby alley.  
  
“Here you go,” he says in Korean, dropping the necklace into Baekhyun’s hand.  
  
Baekhyun frowns. “You didn’t have to bully the poor guy into giving me this, you know. I just thought it was pretty.”  
  
“He gave it to me for free. Willingly.” Baekhyun still looks unconvinced, and Chanyeol laughs. The necklace _is_ pretty, and—it reminds him of Baekhyun’s eyes. It’s simple: a dark, nebulous crystal filled with flecks of swirling silver, glimmering with a soft light, strung on a black rope string. “Want me to put it on for you?”  
  
Baekhyun nods and pushes back his hood. His hair falls roughly across his forehead, a bit tousled from being rubbed against fabric. It looks soft, and it feels even softer when Chanyeol’s fingers brush against the curls at the nape of Baekhyun’s neck as he slips on the necklace. His touch lingers a bit too long at Baekhyun’s neck, and Baekhyun squeaks, balking from under Chanyeol’s touch.  
  
“Sorry,” he apologizes, pink flushing across his cheeks in a way that reminds Chanyeol of the cosmos. “My neck is just. Really sensitive.”  
  
“Oh really.” Chanyeol smirks.  
  
“Don’t. You. Dare.”  
  
Chanyeol is about to respond when the sirens rip through the market.  
  
The sound is shrill and pierces at his ears, and instantly he’s flipping up both his and Baekhyun’s hoods, the instinct to run drilled into every muscle in his body.  
  
“What’s going on?” Baekhyun shouts, barely audible over combined din of the panicking crowd and the wailing sirens.  
  
Chanyeol’s face is grim, and he locks Baekhyun’s hand in his before heading down towards the back entrance of the alleyway. “The interspace police are here.”  
  
“What about Sehun?”  
  
They stumble out of the alleyway, and Chanyeol takes a quick glance around the assess the situation. The crowd is mostly running in the same direction they’re heading in, which means the police are behind them and not in front. He starts to run again, pulling Baekhyun along behind him, just barely remembering to answer his question. “Sehun will be fine. He knows how to get out of a raid.”  
  
Baekhyun says something else, but it’s lost in the sudden roar of police ship flying overhead. Impulsively, Chanyeol ducks into a niche in the wall, Baekhyun pressed tight against him. On any other day, he would be hyperaware of the way Baekhyun’s head just seems to fit into the space where his neck meets his shoulder, the way his arms wrap so easily around the smaller man. But today, it’s different.  
  
The flyers float gently to the ground in the wake of the ship. One lands close enough for Chanyeol to read, but he doesn’t need to read it to recognize the photo of himself printed on the front, clear as day.  
  
_CHANYEOL, THE PHOENIX. WANTED FOR THIEVERY AND DESTRUCTION OF GOVERNMENT PROPERTY._  
  
Wanted flyers aren’t anything too new to him, all things considering, but he’s never seen such a large price attached to his head as he does now. The words printed in bold at the bottom of the flyer also send a chill down his spine.  
  
**_DELIVER DEAD OR ALIVE._**  
  
For now, all he knows is that he has to get back to Junmyeon’s. Chanyeol looks down at Baekhyun, still enclosed in his arms, and he makes a decision.  
  
“Hey!”  
  
Baekhyun yelps as Chanyeol hoists him into his arms, carrying him cradled close to his chest, one arm under his knees and the other supporting his back. “This is the fastest way. Keep your arms around my neck. Don’t show your face.”  
  
Baekhyun looks up at him for a moment, before he nods silently and buries his face back into Chanyeol’s chest.  
  
They reach Junmyeon’s house without any problems. The market clears out fast, and Chanyeol suspects that the police hadn’t truly raided it. They had probably only stopped by to spill the flyers from the sky, and a flicker of anger burns through him. Sehun, luckily, had returned already as well, and he meets them at the door of Junmyeon’s house. Nevertheless, if there’s even a chance the police know that he’s here, he can’t risk being caught.  
  
“Take Baekhyun and go to the ship,” he tells Sehun, who staggers a little under Baekhyun’s sudden weight. Baekhyun also looks disoriented from the sudden shift in position. “We’re leaving.”  
  
Sehun merely nods and jerks his chin back towards the house. “Junmyeon’s in there.”  
  
“I’ll meet you in a bit. Ready the ship for departure.” Chanyeol brushes by Sehun and nearly runs into Junmyeon in the lobby.  
  
“I heard,” Junmyeon cuts him off before he can speak. “They’re after you. You left earlier today before I could tell you. I’m sorry.”  
  
“No, it’s not your fault. It’s mine.”  
  
Junmyeon shakes his head. “I gave you access to the wormhole.”  
  
Chanyeol just scoffs, pushing back his hood and raking a hand through his hair. It’s hot, or maybe it’s just the leftover energy running through his veins. “Was it so bad that I entered the Milky Way? Enough that they wouldn’t... they wouldn’t even care if I was brought in dead?”  
  
Junmyeon’s face darkens with something too close to guilt, and Chanyeol’s gut twists. “It’s not just the Milky Way, Chanyeol. You took something from them.”  
  
Chanyeol frowns. The realization dawns slow. “You mean, _Baekhyun_?”  
  
“I told you before. The government has long since been aware of the existence of the humans. Baekhyun is not the first. It has something to do with the Sleeper and the destruction of Earth, but beyond that, I don’t know.”  
  
There’s frustration in Junmyeon’s voice, and Chanyeol feels suspicion seep unwillingly through him. He trusts Junmyeon. He really does – Junmyeon had saved him and Sehun and gave Chanyeol his ship. In turn, he had acted as a mercenary for Junmyeon for a brief while, gathering information, before turning to smuggling. But he remembers how Junmyeon is as old as the seas lapping at the shore of his planet, how he prefers a human shape, and how he knows nothing about the Junmyeon before they met.  
  
“How do you know that?” he asks, and he knows Junmyeon can hear the doubt.  
  
Junmyeon’s eyes are endless, filled with something deep and lonely, a stark contrast with the bitter smile curving his lips. “I suppose you deserve to know. Once, many centuries ago... I had a human of my own. I used to adventure, much as you do now, and I found him orbiting Earth. He was in a pod he called the Sleeper as well. We couldn’t communicate too well, but still. Still.” Something heartbreaking flits across Junmyeon’s face, and Chanyeol feels like he’s intruding, like he doesn’t really deserve to hear this. “I was allowed to keep him by my side for four years. But back then, I was reckless, and I didn’t have the network I do now. I couldn’t keep him hidden, and the government found him one day. Here, on this planet.”  
  
“Did you ever find him again?” Chanyeol can’t help but ask.  
  
His heart sinks when Junmyeon shakes his head again. “No. I tried. Believe me, I tried, but the government was too thorough. They’ve kept humans under guard for so many centuries. I’m sorry that this was forced this upon you. But I know. I know that because you’re you, Chanyeol, the Phoenix, you can help the humans. You’ve already helped Baekhyun, after all.”  
  
He wants to feel angry, angry that all this was shoved at him without his permission. He didn’t ask for a bounty on his head or another few months on the run. But the anger doesn’t come, because he recognizes something of himself in Junmyeon’s eyes, and he remembers the way Baekhyun’s warmth had seeped through his arms and the soft curl of Baekhyun’s hair at the nape of his neck and. And—  
  
Baekhyun.  
  
“You can leave him here if you want,” Junmyeon is saying, and Chanyeol suddenly snaps back to attention.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Baekhyun. You can leave him with me for now. I promise you he will be safe, at least until you return from being on the run.”  
  
Chanyeol is refusing before Junmyeon even finishes. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”  
  
Junmyeon pauses. Sighs. Then: “I know you, Chanyeol, and I know that you get attached easily and that you hurt easily. I know that you’re also scared of both. Is the human worth it?”  
  
“Your human was worth it,” Chanyeol says, but Junmyeon just looks at him with his ancient eyes, and Chanyeol feels so young.  
  
“My human is no longer here. He cannot be used against me. But yours can. You have enemies who would not hesitate to hurt Baekhyun.”  
  
“I’ll protect him,” he insists.  
  
“Would you protect him even from yourself?”  
  
Chanyeol frowns, a little hurt. “You know I’ve long since learned to control my fire.”  
  
“Not your fire. Your heart.” Chanyeol looks confused, and Junmyeon sighs. “Your stubbornness is truly something. You will find out in due time. For now, you should go. Sehun and your human are waiting.”  
  
“I’ll save them. I’ll help the humans and I’ll keep Baekhyun safe,” Chanyeol promises abruptly, standing up straight. “I can do it.”  
  
Junmyeon’s voice is quiet. “I hope so.”  
  
Chanyeol leaves then, and the ship departs easily, without chase. But later, when the quiet of space surrounds them again, he can’t help but remember the look in Junmyeon’s eyes.  
  
_(I know that you get attached easily and that you hurt easily.  
  
I know that you’re also scared of both.) _  
  
And ... he is. He _is_ scared of how close Baekhyun has become already, how much he means to him when he’s known him for so little. The lengths he is willing to go for him.  
  
Something burrows deep into his chest, painful and aching, and try as he might, he cannot dig it out. It’s too late.  
  
The seed of doubt has already been planted.  
  
✯ ✩ ✯  
  
Chanyeol is no stranger to running from the police. He activates the shields on his ship that muffle the energy waves and sets them on more hidden course towards an area of EXO that he knows the government rarely frequents.  
  
Baekhyun seems to have dropped his guard around Chanyeol and Sehun. On one hand, it’s glorious: the way he drops smiles freely, the little snatches of songs he’ll spontaneously sing. On the other hand, the weight on his chest presses down and down with each slight brush of their fingers, each time he catches Baekhyun looking at him.  
  
It’s almost normal. It makes him forget that he’s on the run, wanted dead or alive. It makes him forget the parts of his childhood that creep out before sleep, the ones that curl around him and leave him shaking sometimes when he wakes.  
  
He’s never had normal before, not even with Sehun. He’s had routine, yes, routine in their raids on forbidden planets and subsequent visits at the market to trade out the loot. But not anything like this. Not anything that comes uncomfortably close to a normal lifestyle, and it makes him think of what he could’ve had if he had grown up with his family as he had been meant to.  
  
It makes him think, and he doesn’t exactly like what he finds.  
  
Chanyeol has only listened to the call of adventure singing through his veins for so long that, now, faced with something new, he doesn’t know how to react. So he shoves it away, locks it up and hides it deep in his mind.  
  
Something else changes as well. The second night after they return to the ship, Chanyeol wakes in the middle of the night to someone hovering over him. He had forgotten to close to the sleep pod that night, worn out by Baekhyun’s seemingly relentless energy, and on instinct his hand shoots out and wrenches the figure’s wrist hard, stopping it mid-air from where it had been reaching out towards him.  
  
“Ow, ow, ow!”  
  
Chanyeol recognizes Baekhyun’s voice, and immediately he lets go, sitting up in confusion. “Baekhyun? Wait, did I hurt you? I’m so sorry. I just. Instinct. You know.” He begins to panic a little when Baekhyun cradles his wrist to his chest, face still shadowed by dimness of the room. “Shit, does your wrist hurt? Do you want me to get a first aid kit? I’ll go get some bandages—”  
  
Then Baekhyun laughs, and the sound washes over him warmly. The white of his teeth flashes briefly in the dark. “Just kidding! You fell for it!”  
  
Chanyeol stays stock-still for a moment, adjusting, before his body melts with something like relief. He lies back down on the pod. “Don’t do that again. You scared me.”  
  
“Aww, you care about me,” Baekhyun teases. Chanyeol’s glad the room is dark enough to hide the flush across his cheeks. When he doesn’t answer immediately, Baekhyun says with an obvious pout in his voice, “Are you mad?”  
  
“No. No, I’m not.” _‘I don’t think I could ever really be mad at you’_ rings unsaid in his head, and he shakes it a little to clear it. “What are you doing here anyway? It’s late.”  
  
Baekhyun is fiddling with his necklace, the small flecks of silver glowing bright in the dark. He only does that when he’s nervous, and he doesn’t answer for a few seconds. Right when Chanyeol is about to ask again, Baekhyun draws in a deep breath and unclenches his hand from around the crystal. “I. I couldn’t sleep. It’s too quiet.”  
  
Oh. Baekhyun had mentioned it before, his dislike of space. Chanyeol understands. In the early few years, he had had trouble adjusting to a life spent mostly in flight as well, and sometimes it felt suffocating being by yourself in a lonely pod surrounded by nothing but more darkness.  
  
So he shifts over on the pod and pats the space beside him.  
  
“Can I?” Baekhyun’s voice is small.  
  
“Of course.”  
  
Then Baekhyun is sliding in next to him. The sleep pod is definitely not large enough for them to sleep side-by-side comfortably, and they struggle a little before they finally end up in a position that sends little curls of heat running through his chest. His arms are around Baekhyun, who’s half on top of him, warmth radiating through into Chanyeol.  
  
(It’s scary. This is scary.)  
  
“You’re not glowing right now,” Baekhyun mumbles, and he sounds so sleepy that Chanyeol can’t help but laugh.  
  
“My energy usually rests at night,” he explains before patting Baekhyun’s back. “Go to sleep.”  
  
“Mm. Thank you, Chanyeol. For everything.”  
  
A sliver of guilt stabs into him, but he ignores it and tucks Baekhyun in closer, eyes closing as well, and that’s how they fall into a nightly routine of sleeping together. The first time Sehun catches them leaving the room together in the morning, he pauses, and shoots Chanyeol a look filled with warning when Baekhyun is in the shower. Chanyeol pretends not to see it, and luckily, Sehun doesn’t press the issue.  
  
The first time they need to refuel, Chanyeol is excessively paranoid. He barely lets Baekhyun off the ship, and only then it’s because Sehun rolls his eyes and says, “You know there’s nobody who can take Baekhyun with both of us protecting him.” That in combination with Baekhyun’s relentlessly pleading eyes finally leaves Chanyeol shrugging his shoulders in defeat. But Sehun is wrong – he’s not scared of the possibility of getting caught. He’s more scared of how much deeper in he’ll fall when he sees the way Baekhyun’s face lights up in excitement, in happiness.  
  
Still, Chanyeol makes sure they refuel and leave in record time, and it isn’t until they’re safely back in space that he lets himself relax.  
  
“Couldn’t we have stayed just a little longer?” Baekhyun frowns, peering outside the window of the cockpit as they head back out. “Nobody even paid any attention to us. We were fine.”  
  
“I don’t want to risk it,” Chanyeol answers, shaking his head.  
  
He can’t get Baekhyun’s upset look out of his mind, however, and the next time they refuel, he reluctantly agrees to show Baekhyun around, ignoring Sehun’s snide whisper of _‘you’re so whipped.’_ This planet is a far cry from Junmyeon’s; the gravity is much less, and they bound more so than walk. The entire planet is covered with a thin layer of ice and is more mountainous than not. At Baekhyun’s urging, they climb to the top of one of the nearby peaks. Due to the weak gravity, the journey is much less arduous than it should have been, and they reach the peak quickly.  
  
The view is breathless, Chanyeol can’t deny that. The whole of the planet is spread out beneath them in infinite shades of blue and white that glitter beneath the cold, cloudy light of the planet’s nearby star. Their breaths also come out in small puffs of white, but Baekhyun seems unbothered by the cold.  
  
“I’ve never climbed a mountain before,” he says wistfully, peering out across the icy flatlands. “Back on Earth, any available scrap of land was snatched up and turned into living spaces, even the mountains. I’ve never seen ice like this before. I’ve never even seen rain that hasn’t been tainted with pollution or an ocean that’s still blue or the green of a jungle. I know I said I didn’t like space travel, but... I’m glad that because of you, I have a chance to see all this.”  
  
Pink dashes across his cheeks and he flicks his gaze once quickly to and away from Chanyeol. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”  
  
It’s beautiful, yes, but Baekhyun even more so, pale skin and colored cheeks, swallowed up in the depths of Chanyeol’s cloak. He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn’t realize he’s been staring until Baekhyun says, uncharacteristically self-conscious, “What? Is there something on my face?”  
  
Chanyeol blinks and shakes himself from his daze, feeling his own blush begin to rise. “No. It’s nothing. We should go back to the ship, Sehun’s probably waiting.”  
  
“Okay,” Baekhyun agrees, and when he slips his hand into Chanyeol’s on the way down, it feels strangely natural.  
  
A few days later, they pass by a planet that Chanyeol has heard of but never visited. It’s one renowned for its lush medicinal plants and diverse inhabitants, and he remembers Baekhyun’s wistfulness for all the small wonders he had never seen before. On a wild impulse, he quickly types in the commands for landing. Sehun comes into the control room a few minutes later, no doubt having felt their descent.  
  
“What’s going on? Are we being followed? We just refueled.”  
  
“No. I just... wanted to visit for fun. I’ve never visited this planet before.”  
  
“You never want to visit new planets for fun,” Sehun says, frowning. He puts two and two together faster than Chanyeol can reply with an excuse. “But Baekhyun does.”  
  
Chanyeol knows he’s getting defensive, but he can’t help it. “He’s never seen unpolluted rain, Sehun, or even an ocean.”  
  
Sehun sighs. “Just remember. Our lifestyle isn’t one where we can just keep Baekhyun around forever. Right now it’s alright, because all we’re doing is running. But what are you going to do when we have to raid? Or if someone raids us? Baekhyun is just an extra body to protect. Something is going to have to change, Chanyeol. Baekhyun, or you.”  
  
His hands clench and unclench around the armrests of his seat, and all he says is, “We’re landing soon. You should sit.”  
  
“Just think about it,” Sehun says before he leaves the room.  
  
Still – it’s worth it. It’s worth seeing the unadulterated joy on Baekhyun’s face, the way he laughs and throws himself into the pouring rain until his hair is slicked close to his face and his clothes are soaked through. The way the raindrops drip off his eyelashes when he pulls Chanyeol close with hands made slippery by the rain, the shape his lips make when he mouths a _‘thank you.’_ It’s worth it, because he gets to see Baekhyun trip over tree roots and he gets to smudge dirt off Baekhyun’s cheeks. He gets to see Baekhyun’s hair ruffle with the salt of the ocean breeze, and he gets to watch as the imprints their feet make in the sand trail away behind them.  
  
It’s nothing he’s ever experienced before, the simple joys of exploring something new and splendid in its rawness. Something is changing between them, subtly, in the way they let their fingers brush and tangle together, in the way Chanyeol becomes increasingly distracted by how soft Baekhyun’s lips look.  
  
Somewhere along the way, Chanyeol picks up another guitar as well. It’s not as familiar under his fingertips as his old, trusted guitar is, but it’s okay as long as Baekhyun will sing with him. Baekhyun no longer sings the song with the soaring melody as often, the one Chanyeol heard him sing the first time in the shower, the one that had left Baekhyun with red eyes and a prickly defensiveness. Sometimes, he still hears snatches of it, parts of it in Korean and parts of it in a foreign language he doesn’t recognize. But he’s too scared to ask, too scared that he’ll receive another refusal. So he’s content to stay in the bubble they’ve created, improvising for songs Baekhyun still remembers after 2150 years, letting Baekhyun lead their jam sessions.  
  
Except one day, Baekhyun asks him, hesitantly, “Could you teach me the lullaby?” Chanyeol’s fingers still on the strings. He hadn’t expected Baekhyun to remember the lullaby. Baekhyun bites his lip and touches his necklace, which he hasn’t taken off since Chanyeol gave it to him. _(Warmth.)_ “If you want to. Of course.”  
  
“No, I would love to. Just... give me a few days to translate the song into Korean. It’ll be easier for you.”  
  
Baekhyun beams at him in response. He smiles back – and it doesn’t feel fake. The ghost that had come with the lullaby has long since gone, and it feels right to teach it to Baekhyun, the one who had helped it disappear.  
  
It becomes Baekhyun’s new favorite song to sing, and even Sehun drops by their sessions when he hears them practicing together. Chanyeol still isn’t too fond of his own voice, but at Baekhyun’s urging, they [sing together](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bojEznxs6qo). Sometimes, after the song finishes and the last notes of the guitar trail off, Chanyeol catches Baekhyun looking at him in a way that makes him wonder how easy his own face is to read.  
  
(It’s in these moments that he wonders, just wonders, if Baekhyun’s lips are as soft as they look. And it’s in these moments that the fear comes rearing back, sharp, digging into his chest.  
  
It’s the fear that forces him to draw back before he touches Baekhyun’s cheek, before he just leans in and kisses him the way he thinks sometimes Baekhyun’s asking him to.)  
  
Baekhyun also picks up hand-to-hand combat training, of all things, after he sees a pair of creatures practicing together in a market. He tells Chanyeol he used to do something called _‘hapkido,’_ which, after he demonstrates a little, Chanyeol gathers to be a form of close combat. Sehun perks up at this and offers to train with Baekhyun. Chanyeol has always been more of a power fighter than a hand-to-hand combat one, unlike Sehun, who uses a fair mixture of both. He’s glad that Baekhyun and Sehun both have someone to practice with now, but he still can’t repress the jealousy that sometimes claws up his throat when he sees them together in the morning, practicing in the cargo hold when the ship is on cooldown.  
  
However, even that is pushed aside as the weeks progress and the flyers begin to show up wherever they frequent. He continues to keep his hood up when they visit crowded areas, and he becomes increasingly hyperaware of the murmur of the crowd and the concealed weapons everyone carried. The first time Baekhyun sees the flyer, he tenses and looks at Chanyeol with sad eyes. “Why is your face on here?”  
  
He thinks Baekhyun knows, but he lies anyway, forcing a smile onto his face. “Y’know, they’re just enamored with my good looks.”  
  
“Is it the government?” When Chanyeol doesn’t answer, Baekhyun’s gaze flickers back to the flyer. “Sehun told me. They want me, don’t they?”  
  
“Yeah.” He wants to say, _‘I won’t let them,’_ but the words remain stuck in his throat, and all he can do is swallow thickly and say again, “Yeah.”  
  
There’s a few more close-runs, raids in markets they’ve just escaped or the beep of a police ship in the edge of their radar. The more frequently it happens, the edgier Chanyeol becomes.  
  
It culminates one day, a few weeks after they first went on the run, when Junmyeon sends them a voice message.  
  
“Hello, Chanyeol. I hope you, Sehun, and Baekhyun are doing well. To get straight to the point, I fear that government has been taking your crime a little more seriously than either of us imagined. Their efforts to catch you have only been increasing, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. One of my contacts also recently informed me that the government has been extremely invested in researching the Sleeper your—our—humans came out of, for what reason I’m not sure.” There’s a brief crackle when Junmyeon pauses, and his voice seems muted when he continues. “I know I asked you to help the humans, Chanyeol, but truthfully, I much value your life over any of theirs. If it comes down to it, I believe the government would be willing to make a trade for either the knowledge behind the Sleeper or... or, well, Baek—”  
  
Chanyeol cuts off the voice message angrily, Junmyeon’s voice blurring out with a shrill beep.  
  
He sinks into the pilot’s chair, buries his face in his hands, and tries to remember to how to breathe. Instead, all that he can remember is how Baekhyun feels cradled in his arms at night, the little yelping noises he sometimes makes in his sleep, the way he cringes when Chanyeol brushes his neck, the gentle lilt of his voice when he sings Chanyeol’s lullaby.  
  
But he also feels – trapped. Caged. Even in space, the one place he’s always been free to be himself. Instead of independence, he’s being hunted because of Baekhyun, and that much he cannot deny. He can’t deny the fears that creep into his head, that whisper that he’s already too close and that it’s too late, that if he doesn’t cut himself off from Baekhyun soon he will never be able to.  
  
It’s too much.  
  
Everything is too much, and he wishes for one brief second that he had never met Baekhyun at all.  
  
✯ ✩ ✯  
  
Chanyeol knows it’s a bad idea. It’s a really bad idea. But he feels so knotted-up and confused and anxious inside that all he wants to do is get shit-faced and forget about it for one night, and so the next time they stop to refuel, he brings back a few bottles of alcohol. It smells heady and sweet and looks more like wine than anything else, but the merchant he had bought it from had promised it was strong, and really, that’s all Chanyeol wants.  
  
Sehun wrinkles his nose when he sees it. “Really?”  
  
“What, can’t we just have some fun?” Chanyeol sets out three glasses, although he isn’t sure if Baekhyun will want to drink or not. He tops his off and kicks back in the kitchen seat before downing the glass in one go. It settles warm in his stomach.  
  
“You always do this when you’re running from your problems,” mutters Sehun, but he accepts a glass from Chanyeol anyway.  
  
Another glass later, Baekhyun walks in, and Chanyeol only sways a little when he stands up enthusiastically. The merchant was right, this _is_ some strong stuff. He holds out the last glass to Baekhyun anyway, the golden liquid sloshing a little.  
  
“What’s going on? Is this alcohol?” Baekhyun takes a small sip. “Wow. That’s good.”  
  
“Right? Come here, come here.” Chanyeol just remembers to place his own glass down before wrapping his arms around Baekhyun, who jostles a little to keep his drink from spilling over.  
  
“That’s it, I’m not drunk enough for this. See you in the morning, if you remember any of tonight that is,” Sehun says, finishing his glass and dropping it in the sink before leaving.  
  
Baekhyun sits in the seat Sehun had just vacated after gently pushing Chanyeol back to his own seat. He eyes the empty bottle and the two full ones remaining. “How much have you had so far?”  
  
“Just two glasses.” Chanyeol pours another one, and is impressed when his hand remains steady. “Drink with me.”  
  
“I can’t hold my alcohol at all,” Baekhyun warns, but a small smile curls at the corner of his lips when he takes another sip anyway. “Just so you’re warned.”  
  
True to his word, Baekhyun is gone by the time he finishes the glass. His face is flushed and he laughs too loud, eyes a little glassy, and Chanyeol has to move the bottles away from him before he ends up breaking something. The alcohol is beginning to take effect in his own body now as well, sending warmth buzzing through his limbs. Everything is becoming slightly hazy, and he’s pleased when the knot in his chest finally seems to recede a little.  
  
“Y’know, I just realized, I know nothing about you at all,” Baekhyun accuses suddenly, leaning across the table to poke at Chanyeol’s shoulder. “Nothing.”  
  
“You know a lot about me. I’m...I’m tall. I can create fire. I have elf ears.”  
  
“Your ears are very sensitive,” Baekhyun adds, and laughs again when Chanyeol flushes, partly because of the alcohol and partly because of the compliment.  
  
“There’s nothing else about me to know.” He empties his glass, and decides he’s going to need another drink if the line of questioning is going where he thinks it’s going. And knowing Baekhyun, it will.  
  
Sure enough, Baekhyun tilts his head. “Whaddaya talking about? Of course there is. What’s your planet like? Do you have siblings? Wait, is Sehun your sibling? I never really saw much of a resemblance, except for the ears—”  
  
“No, no, no, Sehun’s not my sibling. We’re... very distantly related.” Chanyeol stares at the half-empty glass before him and swirls it absently. Everything is warped through the golden liquid, and it’s probably the alcohol talking, but looking through it kind of feels like how it must look inside his mind, everything warped and wavy. Should he tell Baekhyun about his past? He’s never told anyone, not even Junmyeon, who had understood that there were some things that just couldn’t be said. The only other one who knew was Sehun, but that was because Sehun had lived through it with him.  
  
But this is Baekhyun.  
  
It’s Baekhyun.  
  
“I have no siblings. I have no parents either.” The words fall out so easily, the secret he’s been holding close his entire life, and as soon as they come out, it’s as if a dam has been opened. “I don’t know what planet my family is on, either, only the planet I was born on. It’s a lovely planet.” He can’t find the words to describe it in Baekhyun’s language – but his home planet is just that: it’s _home._ Home in a way that can never be truly replicated. “Sehun and I grew up together. That’s how we know each other.”  
  
And he had always thought it would be painful, awkward, trying to tell someone what he had never told anyone. But it’s oddly easy.  
  
He tells Baekhyun about how, for as long as he could remember, he had lived on the streets, at first alone and then with Sehun. Two street rats, hiding in the shadows of the market, stealing their only way of life. How they had nearly starved, how the police had beat them when they caught them, how nobody ever tried to help. How he wondered where his family was, and why they had abandoned him, one of their own. How his fire had scared him at the beginning, and how it had hurt him when everyone shied away from it. And then he tells him about how Junmyeon had saved them one day and saw past the desperation and fear and the loneliness their situation had brought. He tells Baekhyun about how Junmyeon had given him his ship, the Phoenix, for nothing and had taught Chanyeol how to control his fire, and how Chanyeol had sworn to repay Junmyeon for all he did.  
  
He doesn’t tell him how much meeting Baekhyun has changed Chanyeol. He also doesn’t tell Baekhyun how it’s still hard for him to trust people, and how it’s still hard for him to not believe that everything will fall apart around him sometimes, when all he has to do is wait for it to happen.  
  
“Sounds like Junmyeon means a lot to you.” There’s a pout in Baekhyun’s voice, even if his face doesn’t show it.  
  
“Jealous?” Chanyeol teases, glass now empty. His throat still feels dry, but he decides that even he has a limit for one night. He hasn’t drank in a while, after all, and he’s beginning to feel like he’s floating a little, or maybe it’s just because the weight of his past is no longer shackling him down.  
  
“A little,” Baekhyun admits, and now there’s definitely a pout in his voice that makes something jump in Chanyeol’s chest.  
  
To distract himself, he pushes the glass away and cradles his face in one hand, mimicking Baekhyun’s slumped position. “What about you? I could say the same, you know. I barely know anything about you either.”  
  
“What else is there to know? I used to be a singer. I’m also a horrible human being.” Baekhyun laughs, but now the sound falls flat. “Actually. No. I’m wrong. My whole race was horrible. Horrible and selfish. I’m glad we went extinct.”  
  
_Greedy._  
  
“I don’t believe you.”  
  
Baekhyun looks strangely frustrated. “But why _not_?”  
  
“Because everything I’ve seen of you so far contradicts it,” Chanyeol says simply. “You wish the best for people. You’re scared of space. You like shiny things. But you don’t... you’re not horrible.” He wishes he could tell Baekhyun about all the things he can’t see about himself, but the words are beginning to slip his alcohol-hazed mind.  
  
“You’re wrong. You’re wrong,” Baekhyun repeats, and then his face crumbles in a way that makes Chanyeol’s heart lurch. “If only we had put more thought into space travel. We could have saved so many, and instead, all we did was perfect a field that gave barely anyone a chance at life. Our pollution destroyed Earth, but cryogenics destroyed humanity.”  
  
Alarm bells clanged dimly in the back of Chanyeol’s head, but he shook them away, too concerned with dispelling the horribly sad look on Baekhyun’s face. “That’s—that’s not your fault. You can’t blame yourself.”  
  
“I had so many fans. I – I promised them. I wrote them a song and I promised them that I would stay for them, that we would survive together.” Baekhyun’s crying now, small tears that gather at the tips of his eyelashes like raindrops. Chanyeol remembers the melody Baekhyun used to sing, heart-wrenchingly sad, and he remains mute. There are some things that must be said, and for Baekhyun, this must be one of them, his own secret. “And I was scared. I was scared of dying and I had the money and nobody told me not to and I paid to be on one of those pods. Even if there was a possibility I would never wake up again, I would rather take that chance than just _die_ like how I should have. The pods were supposed to be for scientists, politicians, people who could revive Earth one day. Not. Not cowardly singers.”  
  
_I don’t deserve it.  
  
I was greedy.  
  
So greedy.  
  
I don’t deserve it. _  
  
“You do deserve it. Why would you deserve less of a chance at life than any other human?” Baekhyun’s still crying and shaking his head, so Chanyeol reaches across the table and grips both of Baekhyun’s wrists in his. “Look at me, Baekhyun. I’m glad you’re alive. I’m glad I found you. I wouldn’t have wanted it to be anyone else. Okay? If nothing else, I’m glad I met you.”  
  
And he can feel the truth ring deep in his bones, the finality of it startling him. Yes. No matter what happens in the future, he is completely and irrevocably happy that he had a chance to meet Byun Baekhyun, the human with the stars in his eyes.  
  
“Thank you. Thank you,” Baekhyun repeats, and Chanyeol moves around the table to embrace him. He can feel Baekhyun’s tears wetting his shirt, but he doesn’t move until the sobs slowly stop and Baekhyun’s breathing evens. When he pulls back, Baekhyun is asleep, and he snorts softly as he wipes away a stray tear from his cheek.  
  
“I’m glad you came into my life, Baekhyun. I really, really am.”  
  
✯ ✩ ✯  
  
Chanyeol wakes the next morning to a dull throbbing in his head.  
  
He sighs. Usually his tolerance is decent, at the very least, but it _has_ been a while since his last time drinking as much as he did last night.  
  
Baekhyun makes a small, yipping noise in his sleep and shifts in his arms. He looks content, at the very least, although the corners of his eyes are still red from crying last night and—  
  
Last night.  
  
Everything comes rushing back, which makes his head ache even more. He can’t believe he told Baekhyun everything – although, to be fair, Baekhyun had revealed a fair bit about himself that had explained quite a lot. But he hadn’t just revealed information about himself.  
  
_Cryogenics._  
  
Another subject banned by the interspace government on the grounds that too many lives had been lost in the pursuit of it. And it was true – it was over a century ago, but Chanyeol still hears about the interplanetary wars that had erupted after the technology to transfer consciousness had been perfected. But transferring the mind is only a temporary solution to mortality, and certainly not one as everlasting as cryogenics.  
  
Chanyeol knows without a doubt that this must be the true reason behind the government’s desperation to lock down on anything to do with humans, and dread washes cold over him.  
  
He doesn’t know what to do.  
  
It hadn’t been the alcohol talking last night when he told Baekhyun he was glad to have met him. It was the truth.  
  
But now, without the haze of alcohol to cloud his mind, the self-doubts come running back, the insecurities that never stopped plaguing him. He’s scared of this new normal. And Sehun is right. They can’t keep up this lifestyle forever; sooner or later, they’ll have to engage in battle, and hapkido or not, they will have to protect Baekhyun as well as themselves.  
  
Chanyeol won’t sell Baekhyun to the government in exchange for freedom. That much he’s certain of. He won’t give them Baekhyun, full of happiness and excitement and love, and let them destroy all that.  
  
He _could_ sell them the information, but there is no guarantee that the police would exchange that for the price on his head, especially if he refuses to hand over Baekhyun. And if they won’t absolve him of crime, then there is no point in feeding them more information that could potentially hurt the humans they already kept.  
  
Chanyeol knows he had promised Junmyeon, promised to help save the humans. But how can he help them when he can barely even save Baekhyun? In the end, for Chanyeol, Baekhyun is and always would come before the rest of his people.  
  
But Baekhyun knows too much, is too human, and Chanyeol knows he can’t keep him hidden forever.  
  
He had been content to live in this small, constructed reality forever with Baekhyun. But it had only ever been that: constructed, fictional, make-believe.  
  
And now, it’s starting to crumble down around them.  
  
✯ ✩ ✯  
  
The decision hangs over him like an executioner’s blade.  
  
He thinks he hides it well at first, but it becomes increasingly apparent to both him and Baekhyun when he unconsciously begins to shy away from Baekhyun’s touch, finding excuses to untangle their fingers and excuses to avoid their jam sessions. There’s a distance between them now, one that he inadvertently placed there but also one that he can’t bring himself to cross. It’s only now, after he begins to pull away, that he realizes how reliant on touch they both had become. He catches Baekhyun watching him sometimes, with something a little too close to hurt in his eyes, but Chanyeol always turns away before he can look too closely.  
  
He doesn’t want to pull away like this, force distance into a space where no such thing had existed before, but he has to. For Baekhyun’s sake, and for his own. It’s dangerous for both of them to be so attached to one another, he reasons, and he’s only preparing them both for the inevitability of departure.  
  
Still, sometimes he can’t resist it, and the urge pulls at him in the oddest moments. It’s the urge to brush aside an unruly lock of Baekhyun’s hair, still damp from the shower. It’s the urge to brush a stray crumb from his cheek. It’s the urge to hold him close at night and blame it on Chanyeol’s unconscious clinginess, even though they both know that neither of them are truly asleep.  
  
Sehun notices too, of course, but he doesn’t say anything until he finds out that Chanyeol has set the ship back on track to Junmyeon’s planet.  
  
“What exactly are you doing, Chanyeol?” he asks, matter-of-fact as always, sliding into the co-pilot’s seat. The door to the control room hisses shut behind him.  
  
“Isn’t this what you wanted me to do?” Chanyeol answers, and even he can hear how listless he sounds. He stares at the map and the little red dot of his ship as it inches, slowly but surely, closer to Junmyeon’s planet. “Isn’t this what everyone wanted me to do?”  
  
Sehun sighs. “But is this what _you_ want to do? Is this what Baekhyun wants you to do?”  
  
“I’m not going to give him up to the government,” Chanyeol retorts, straightening in his chair and turning to look at Sehun.  
  
“I know. You wouldn’t do that.” Sehun just watches him with a patient look on his face. Since when did this little brat grow up to look older than him, anyway? Something close to nostalgia rushes through him, and he mimics Sehun’s sigh before slumping back in his own seat.  
  
“I just... I’m starting to think you were right. That this lifestyle isn’t for him.” Chanyeol hesitates, then shakes his head. This is Sehun. Sehun, who he would trust with his own life if he had to. “And... I’m scared I won’t be able to protect him if something happens. I can’t run forever. Shit, the government is looking into cryogenics, Sehun. They’re that desperate. It’s hard enough trying to save myself when I have to save Baekhyun too.”  
  
“Does Junmyeon know?”  
  
He laughs harshly. “About which one? The cryogenics, or the fact that I might leave him with another human just because I can’t—” _Just because I can’t even deal with my own insecurities._  
  
“Both.”  
  
Chanyeol sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “No. I haven’t told him.”  
  
A silence descends upon them, and it’s only broken when Sehun says suddenly, “Luhan asked me to stay with him, the next time I go back.”  
  
Chanyeol’s heart drops for a moment. “Did you say yes?”  
  
“I told him I didn’t know yet.” Sehun frowns. “If you don’t want me to, Chanyeol, I won’t.”  
  
But he can’t do that. He can’t deny Sehun a chance at happiness, when all their lives they’ve had nothing. Because he thinks – he thinks he might know. He thinks he knows what it might mean to be in love, but he also knows he’s too much of a coward to do anything about it. Baekhyun was wrong; Chanyeol is far bigger of a coward than he had ever been.  
  
“I want you to be happy, Sehun,” he says firmly.  
  
“I want you to be happy too, Chanyeol,” Sehun answers quietly, before he gives a little laugh. “Looks like we both have decisions to make, don’t we?”  
  
Chanyeol’s decision is made for him a few days later, when they’re only about two days’ journey away from Junmyeon’s planet.  
  
With the added shield to the ship, necessary in order to keep it hidden from the police ships’ radars, the fuel had been burning through much more quickly than usual, and they didn’t have enough to make the final journey back to Junmyeon’s. As a result, they made an emergency stop on a nearby planet, and despite all the distance that had grown between him and Baekhyun, he still didn’t have the heart to keep him on the ship.  
  
It’s a mistake.  
  
Raids happen frequently, of course, when one deals in underground trade, but Chanyeol had been lucky enough before to escape them with Baekhyun before the police had truly infiltrated. This time, however, something goes wrong.  
  
In hindsight, he’s not sure if it’s because he’s been distracted for the past few days or if it’s because they truly had gotten unlucky this time around. Regardless of the reason, all he knows is the panic when he turns around and Baekhyun is gone, sirens ringing loud in his ears and drowning out his yell. It’s a panic that he has never felt before, one that leaves an iron taste in his mouth and brings his heart up to his throat. He’s not afraid for himself. He’s afraid for Baekhyun.  
  
They get lucky this time. He does another three-sixty and manages to catch a glimpse of Baekhyun running through the stalls, a black-suited officer close on his heels. Before he can think, his fire roars to life in his hands and the officer falls, flames licking up around his clothes, screaming in a way that Chanyeol has long grown used to hearing. But Baekhyun hasn’t, and the gap widens when he reaches on instinct for Baekhyun’s hand only to feel him flinch away.  
  
“I-I’m sorry,” Baekhyun stumbles, eyes wide.  
  
Chanyeol swallows the bitter taste on his tongue and shakes his head. “Let’s just get out of here.”  
  
They make it back to the ship and into space without further incident, but by then, the damage has been done. For all that technology has advanced, there is still no way to turn back time, and Chanyeol can feel the resolution settle into his bones.  
  
That had been too close, and all his own fault. He had lost Baekhyun for only a brief moment, but he had almost paid the price for it. And it stings, the way Baekhyun had flinched away from his hand like it would burn him too, stings because he can still remember Baekhyun calling it beautiful what seems like so long ago.  
  
And, deep down, he would rather have Baekhyun hate him than fear him.  
  
After he makes his decision, something in him relaxes. The first time he slings his arm around Baekhyun’s neck while they’re in the kitchen, Baekhyun jolts and turns to look at him with suspicious eyes. But it feels as if Chanyeol has been starved, starved of Baekhyun’s touch and affection, and now that he knows he’ll soon never have any of it again, he can’t get enough. He wants to drink up every moment they have left together, memorize the way Baekhyun’s laugh crinkles his eyes and shakes his body, the rasp of his voice when he’s just woken up, the brilliance that shines from his soul, the one that Chanyeol would give up anything for to keep safe.  
  
It’s a temporary fix, one that he knows isn’t enough to mend the distance he had created between them, but he hopes it’s enough. There are so many things he wants to tell Baekhyun, apologies and confessions and maybe an _‘I think I might lo—’_  
  
But they’re crammed back down, crammed into a box he locks tight and stores safely away in the corner of his mind. They’re too dangerous, and Baekhyun might still change his mind if he tells him everything that he wants to. He can’t risk that.  
  
Still, for all his resolve, when it actually comes down to leaving Baekhyun, he dreads it.  
  
Junmyeon seems to know the moment he sees Chanyeol appear in his doorway, and he only nods when Chanyeol tells him of the cryogenics that the government must be pursuing. “How long?” is all he asks when Chanyeol is done.  
  
“...tomorrow. I leave tomorrow.”  
  
“You don’t want to stay with him a little longer?”  
  
“I’m afraid I’ll change my mind,” Chanyeol explains, and it’s like a hole is ripping in his chest, slowly wider and wider the longer he prolongs it. “I would leave today, but I promised Baekhyun I would show him the waters. The sun is due to set tonight, isn’t it?”  
  
“Yes. You always did try your best to keep your promises,” Junmyeon says gently, and Chanyeol forces a laugh.  
  
It’s bitter. Everything is bitter. “I always did try.”  
  
He tries to be normal for Baekhyun, for their last night together. It feels surreal that tomorrow, he’ll be without Baekhyun – back to a life he had known for his entire life before Baekhyun had entered it a short time ago, and yet, it feels as if everything has already changed irrevocably.  
  
_Chanyeol_ has changed irrevocably. And he doesn’t know if the space Baekhyun carved for himself into his chest will ever wash away.  
  
Junmyeon’s planet is haunting when the sun sets. The red light of the sun finally vanishes, leaving only the dark, empty expanse of the sky with countless pinpricks of light behind.  
  
Baekhyun seems blissfully unaware of why they’ve returned to the planet. His eyes reflect the blue phosphorescence of the water, and when he clamors to descend to the bottom of the cliff, Chanyeol can’t bring himself to say no. Baekhyun catches his hand effortlessly when they reach the bottom, and he relishes in their combined warmth, relishes in these last final moments.  
  
“This is incredible.” Baekhyun toes at the water, jumping a little when a wave laps at his bare feet. “What makes them glow?”  
  
“I’m not sure. Some kind of tiny organism, I think,” Chanyeol says, shrugging. He’s much more enamored with the way the light tints Baekhyun’s skin blue, the way the wind drags through their hair. And he finds himself wishing, not for the first time, that they could live in this moment forever.  
  
He doesn’t realize that he’s started singing their song, unconsciously, until Baekhyun’s voice joins in. It’s strong and sweet and suddenly, he realizes the enormity of what he must give up, and his own voice cracks and trails off. The hole is yawning in his chest, and his throat is so tight he feels like he can barely breathe.  
  
Baekhyun stops too and looks back at him, eyes widening when he sees the tear that slips down Chanyeol’s check without his permission. “What’s wrong? Hey, don’t cry.”  
  
He steps closer and reaches a hand to rub at Chanyeol’s cheek. Instead, Chanyeol envelopes him in his arms, hugging him so tight he thinks he must be hurting Baekhyun. But Baekhyun doesn’t complain, doesn’t do anything except reach up and pat gently at Chanyeol’s back.  
  
“I—I—”  
  
_I’m sorry.  
  
I love you. _  
  
Chanyeol tries to speak, but the words don’t come out.  
  
Baekhyun pats his back. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay.” And he cries even harder.  
  
Because it’s not okay. It’s not okay when he untangles himself from Baekhyun that night and gathers his things. It’s not okay because the breeze is still salty on his lips and his eyes are still raw from crying. It’s not okay because it feels like he’s left part of himself with Baekhyun, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get it back.  
  
Sehun meets him at the door of his ship.  
  
“Are you coming?” Chanyeol asks, but he already knows the answer.  
  
“I think I’m going to stay,” Sehun replies quietly, eyes soft and sad. Chanyeol smiles, and it’s small but genuine.  
  
“I’ll come back. Some day.”  
  
“Yes.” Sehun offers a smile of his own. “We’ll be waiting for you. He will forgive you, Chanyeol. Don’t worry.”  
  
Something wells up in Chanyeol again, and all he can do is smile again before the door seals tight. His ship is a familiar hum beneath him, and so is the roar of takeoff and the weightless feeling of flying.  
  
But the silence.  
  
The silence is deafening in a way it has never been before, because he’s never been so truly alone as he is now – without Sehun, without Baekhyun. The rooms are empty and still, and he can’t bear to look at the guitar lying abandoned in the corner or the still unwashed dishware in the sink. The cargo hold where Sehun and Baekhyun used to train. The control room where only one chair would ever be filled.  
  
And he misses Baekhyun. He misses him so, so much. Chanyeol tries not think about it, but it’s hard when there’s really no escape. Even the Sleeper still lying abandoned in the corner of the cargo hold seems to mock him, and it worsens when he tries to go to sleep.  
  
The sleep pod is suffocating. It feels much bigger than it had felt before, but more than anything, Chanyeol misses Baekhyun’s warmth, his puppy yelps in his sleep, his legs tangling together with Chanyeol. And now all he has is silence to keep him company, silence and insomnia.  
  
He holds out for three days before he breaks.  
  
It’s a combination of many things. The lack of sleep, the silence, the loneliness. His old ghosts have long since stopped haunting them – ever since that night spent drinking with Baekhyun. But in their place are new ones, and they are all ghosts of Baekhyun.  
  
And Chanyeol realizes, he was so _stupid._ Stupid to ever think he could let Baekhyun go and live normally, live happily. Stupid to ever think he could be this selfless. Because now that he’s had a taste of what it was like to have Baekhyun, he doesn’t think he can relinquish it and stay sane. Because as much as having Baekhyun scared him, losing him is even worse. Maybe he won’t be able to protect Baekhyun in the case of a raid or an attack. Maybe he’ll have to give up his lifestyle. But also, maybe for Baekhyun, it’s worth it. In the end, Baekhyun had taught him that there was a life outside just surviving. He had taught Chanyeol the wonder of discovering new worlds, the value of appreciating all the small moments in his life that he had ignored up until now, the joy of finding something to love.  
  
He loves Baekhyun. He knew this already, but it’s only now, after he’s already let him go, that he realizes just how much he can’t live without Baekhyun.  
  
Chanyeol knows that Baekhyun might not even take him back. He had left him, after all, abandoned him without a warning or a goodbye. He doesn’t deserve forgiveness. But Baekhyun, at the very least, deserves a choice, one that Chanyeol had been too caught up in his own problems to think about giving him.  
  
“Fuck this,” Chanyeol says out loud, and it feels so, so very liberating to his ship around and head back home, back to Baekhyun.  
  
✯ ✩ ✯  
  
At maximum speed, the journey back is only two days, but it still feels like two days too long for Chnyeol.  
  
He doesn’t remember to tell Junmyeon that he’s returning, too caught up in the nervous excitement fluttering in his stomach in a way that he’s never felt before. Dozens of different scenarios flash through his mind. Would Baekhyun be angry? Probably. Would he forgive Chanyeol? He hopes so. And although he prepares himself for Baekhyun’s refusal to come with him – which he has every right to do, considering the gravity of Chanyeol’s mistake – a small flicker of hope burns bright in his chest, one that he can’t bring himself to extinguish.  
  
Chanyeol barely gives enough time for the ship to dock safely before he’s running out the door and up the pathway to Junmyeon’s house, heart thumping in his throat.  
  
But—something’s wrong.  
  
It becomes blindingly apparent the moment he enters Junmyeon’s house. Everything is as it should be – but it’s quiet. Too quiet, in a way that has Chanyeol’s senses tingling.  
  
“Baekhyun?” he shouts, but all he receives is his own echo. Apprehension builds in him, and he runs into the corridor where they used to stay. “Sehun? Junmyeon? Hello?”  
  
“Chanyeol!”  
  
He whips around, and can’t help the disappointment that flashes through him when he sees Junmyeon. It’s quickly replaced by concern, however, when he sees the harried look in Junmyeon’s eyes, the bruise on his cheek. “What’s wrong? Where’s Baekhyun?”  
  
“Did you get my message?”  
  
“What message?” Chanyeol had been too caught up in his own thoughts to pay attention to any incoming messages during his time journeying back to Junmyeon’s planet, and his heart sinks. “What happened?”  
  
_Please, anything, just don’t tell me—_  
  
“Baekhyun has been taken.”  
  
The world goes deathly still around him for a moment, and all he can hear is his own heart thudding.  
  
_No no nonono—_  
  
“It’s my fault. I should’ve been more careful. Baekhyun was so—he was hurt when you left,” Junmyeon amends carefully, and regret and guilt lance sharp through Chanyeol. “So I thought it would be okay to let him go to the market to raise his spirits, and he told me he was meeting Sehun, but Sehun never met him. I think... I think the government may have gotten him, Chanyeol.”  
  
Red flashes across his vision, and there’s a fury rising inside of him, fueled by panic and fear. Fire dances across his fingertips, and he has to rein it in before he lashes at Junmyeon unintentionally. “Where?” he grits out. “Where did those fuckers take him?”  
  
“Their ship in the official harbor. They’re going to leave soon—Chanyeol, wait, you can’t go alone—”  
  
It’s too late. Chanyeol has always been headstrong and stubborn, bent on doing what he thought best, for better or worse, and now he’s paying the price. But he’ll save Baekhyun. No matter what it takes, he will save Baekhyun. He won’t let the government have him, won’t let them destroy Baekhyun’s spirit the way they corrupt everything else.  
  
The official docking harbor is on the other side of the city, but Chanyeol’s anger fuels him, and for once, he’s glad for his reputation. The crowds cleave before him, pushing to get out of his way, and he knows there will be talk later of the way his footsteps leave behind imprints of flame, scorched deep into the ground. But he doesn’t care. All that matters now is saving Baekhyun.  
  
The ship is easy to spot, extravagant in the way only government ships are built to be. They’re meant to show off, and they’re definitely not built for strength, which Chanyeol can attest to when he blows a hole through the bottom layer of the ship.  
  
It’s not the most subtle tactic he’s ever used, but he’s a little limited on time and he can’t afford to find the real entrance. He regrets it a little when immediately, officers swarm him. It’s manageable for the first few minutes, but he’s never excelled at hand-to-hand combat, and when more than a few lucky hits start to land, he’s beginning to think he should have reconsidered this after all before running headlong in.  
  
Then a gust of wind knocks aside the remaining officers surrounding them, throwing them into the wall or the floor in a way that has Chanyeol wincing in sympathy.  
  
“Having trouble?” a very familiar voice says.  
  
Chanyeol has never been more glad to see Sehun in his life, smirk and all. “Sehun!”  
  
“I heard from Junmyeon you were throwing yourself into trouble.” Sehun flicks his fingers, and an approaching officer is thrown back off his feet. “I’m better at hand-to-hand combat, so I’ll take them out here. You go find Baekhyun.”  
  
“Thank you,” and he wishes he had the time to truly thank Sehun for everything, but Sehun merely shrugs and jerks his head towards the hole Chanyeol had blown in the ship.  
  
“You can treat me later. You better go. Baekhyun’s waiting.”  
  
Chanyeol nods and heads into the ship. Truthfully, he has no idea where Baekhyun is, but from his past raids on government ships, he remembers vaguely that the storage facilities are on the bottom few levels. He doubts they would keep Baekhyun on the upper levels, where the officers and officials stayed, so he heads deep into the belly of the ship.  
  
There’s a shout behind him, and he knocks a fireball into the approaching officer’s chest, but it’s too late. Another officer makes his way down the corridor, though his eyes widen and his steps falter when he sees Chanyeol.  
  
Good. Someone who knows of him – it’ll make it easier to scare the information out of him. Chanyeol flicks his hand, and ropes of fire snake up around the officer, who yells in panic and stops running to bat frantically at the flames on him.  
  
“Tell me where the human is,” he commands, feeling rage still simmer beneath his skin, although the red tint has receded from his gaze.  
  
“I—I don’t know,” the officer stammers, and screams when the flames surge higher, starting to burn through his clothing. “I really don’t know! T-they keep prisoners on sublevel three—in the cells! It’s all sublevel three! Please—”  
  
Chanyeol knocks out the officer and lets the flames dissipate. The fact that the government keeps cells installed on their ship doesn’t surprise him, but he still feels disgust crawl across his skin. All the more reason to get Baekhyun out as soon as he can.  
  
He’s only on sublevel one, but it’s relatively easy make his way down to sublevel three. Fueled by his rage, his fire blazes a path before him, and any officers in his way are forced to dodge or risk incineration.  
  
True to the officer’s word, the entire sublevel three is filled with prison cells. They’re mostly empty, but it’s still enough to burn through his chest when he sees the dark stains coating many of the cells. “Baekhyun!” he shouts again, desperately. There’s a fatigue that’s beginning to pull at his limbs from overusing his power, and he feels his fire flicker unsteadily around his fists.  
  
Someone steps into his path, blocking the corridor. It must be a researcher, as the creature is dressed in all white and lacks any of the weapons the officers carried. It’s overweight and more liquid than solid matter, some type of slug species that really, Chanyeol could care less about identifying.  
  
“Move,” he warns it. “Or you’ll regret it.”  
  
“You’re going to regret this, Phoenix,” the researcher says with a voice that sounds bubbly and warped. “You are making an enemy out of the government.”  
  
“I’ve always been your enemy, it’s nothing new,” Chanyeol snarls, and a burst of flame encircles the researcher. The creature flinches a little, but to its credit, it stands its ground. Its large, limpid eyes stare accusingly at Chanyeol.  
  
“We need the human for important research. This is vital for the further exploration and expansion of our deep understanding of life and death. If you give the human up now, you will be greatly rewarded—”  
  
Anger surges anew through Chanyeol. “You want me to give up Baekhyun so you can help those corrupt, lazy government officials gain immortality and leave the rest of us to suffer? Fuck you.”  
  
He raises his hand, palm up, and slowly, deliberately, draws his fingers into a fist. The fire dances to his command, and they swirl up in a roaring funnel and envelope the researcher in a blast of heat that rocks through the ship. When it finally dies down, nothing is left except a scorched black circle seared into the metal floor.  
  
A long time ago, he might have felt something like guilt. But that is long past him. All that matters now is finding Baekhyun.  
  
On a hunch, he heads down the corridor that the researcher had come from. At the end is an heavy-set door, which he knocks down with another gust of fire. He runs through the flames fully prepared to fight some more, but his steps falter when he’s met with a surreal sight.  
  
There are two guards, yes, but they’re lying facedown on the ground outside the cell at the very end of the hall, somehow knocked out. Chanyeol’s heart jumps, and he knows before he even reaches the cell.  
  
Baekhyun scowls at him from the corner of the cell. His wrists are cuffed together, and the skin around them looks a little raw from where they’ve rubbed against the metal of the cuffs. Other than that, though, he looks mostly unharmed, and Chanyeol breathes a silent sigh of relief.  
  
“Took you long enough,” Baekhyun says, as if he’s been waiting forever, and it’s takes all of Chanyeol’s strength not to break down right there. The anger and fury drains from him in a flash, and he shakes, hands gripping the bars.  
  
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he murmurs, forehead resting against the bars as well. All the adrenaline is gone, replaced by a bone-deep relief. Baekhyun is okay. He’s okay. An _‘I’m sorry’_ doesn’t even begin to cover everything he has to apologize to Baekhyun for, but for now, he hopes it’s enough.  
  
Something pokes his forehead, and he jerks up to look at Baekhyun, who’s smiling a little. “Let’s go, you big dummy.”  
  
Chanyeol nods, draws in a staggering breath, and releases it again. He draws the last dregs of his energy, concentrates the heat at the palms of his hands where they’re still gripping the bars, and pulls. Slowly, inch by inch, the bars drag apart until there’s enough of a space for Baekhyun to slide out. He does the same to Baekhyun’s handcuffs, and Baekhyun rubs gratefully at the chafed skin of his wrists after Chanyeol frees him.  
  
“Remind me never to get on your bad side.” Baekhyun smirks at him.  
  
“Me?” Chanyeol laughs, a little incredulously, and gestures to the guards lying facedown outside the cell. “What about you?”  
  
“Oh, well, looks like training with Sehun came in handy after all.” Baekhyun shrugs nonchalantly, before he holds out his hand to Chanyeol. “Let’s go home, Chanyeol.”  
  
His hand folds around Baekhyun’s like it’s meant to be there, forever, and Chanyeol finally feels at peace.  
  
_I’m not letting you go ever again._  
  
✯ ✩ ✯  
  
With Sehun’s help, they escape and make it back to Chanyeol’s ship safely, where Junmyeon is waiting.  
  
“Thank you,” Chanyeol tells both of them again, feeling gratitude well up in his chest. He doesn’t know where he would be without Junmyeon and Sehun in his life, honestly.  
  
“You better go. I can hear the sirens,” Junmyeon says, and Chanyeol nods.  
  
“I’ll visit soon. We’ll visit soon,” he amends, and Junmyeon nods, a smile crossing his face.  
  
He lifts his hand. “Safe journeys, Chanyeol.” Sehun nods as well, and they both disappear into Junmyeon’s house to take cover before the police arrive.  
  
Chanyeol’s heading into his ship when he feels something tug on his hand. Baekhyun is watching him, and – oh. Right. This is Baekhyun’s choice. To come with him or not is entirely up to Baekhyun. He won’t make the same mistake twice, even though the fear of rejection twists sharp in his chest.  
  
“Do you... do you want to stay here?” he asks, hesitantly.  
  
Baekhyun’s expression falls, and his hand drops from Chanyeol’s. His voice is small when he speaks. “Do you want me to stay here? I—I don’t want to be a burden. I know you have your own life to lead. You shouldn’t be shackled by me, I already made you come back and rescue me—”  
  
“Come with me,” Chanyeol blurts before he can stop himself. Baekhyun’s head jerks up, and his eyes are glossy with something close to tears. Chanyeol repeats himself, and the words taste so sweet on his tongue. “Come with me. Please.”  
  
“Okay,” Baekhyun says softly, and joy races through Chanyeol. He can’t help the elation that crinkles the corners of his eyes, and it’s only the increasing sound of sirens that stops him from hugging Baekhyun right there.  
  
This time, returning to space feels right with Baekhyun by his side. The silence is gone, and the ghosts as well. Only Baekhyun and Chanyeol are left, and it feels... like coming home.  
  
He only lets himself relax after he’s truly sure that they’re safe from any tails. Chanyeol sighs and steps out of the control room, only to take a step back when he almost bumps into Baekhyun, who’s standing right outside, arms crossed and an unreadable expression on his face.  
  
Now that the danger is gone, Chanyeol’s mistakes come flooding back, and he shrinks a little. There’s so much he wants to tell Baekhyun ( _are you sure about this I’m sorry forgive me please forgive me I love you_ ). But what comes out of his mouth is something entirely different, and he wants to slap himself as soon as he’s said it.  
  
“Are you mad at me?”  
  
Baekhyun’s answer is immediate.  
  
“Of course I am, you idiot. You left me behind with Junmyeon.” He scowls, and Chanyeol wilts. Yes, of course Baekhyun is mad. He is an idiot. He deserves all of Baekhyun’s anger, and yet, it’s still suddenly hard to breathe around the tightness in his throat. Baekhyun clears his throat, then, and Chanyeol looks up, unable to catalogue the look on Baekhyun’s face. It looks almost devious, and Baekhyun says, “However. I know a way you can make it up to me.”  
  
Chanyeol jumps on it instantly. “How? I’ll do anything—”  
  
Baekhyun cups his face with his hands, a smirk on his face, and Chanyeol freezes. “Just shut up and don’t move.”  
  
Then—  
  
Baekhyun’s kiss tastes like candy, and his lips are indeed as soft as they look. Chanyeol’s in too much shock to do anything other than stand there, even after Baekhyun pulls away.  
  
“Well, I didn’t expect you to take my command so literally,” Baekhyun laughs, amused, and that’s all he has time to say before Chanyeol is pulling Baekhyun back against him.  
  
Kissing Baekhyun is everything he has ever dreamed of and more, and the moan Baekhyun releases when Chanyeol’s tongue swipes across the seam of his lips shudders through Chanyeol. Baekhyun pulls away for air, and he chuckles when Chanyeol unconsciously chases his lips. He places his hand over Chanyeol’s mouth, and his eyes are so full of love that Chanyeol doesn’t know how he could have ever missed it before. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, you know.”  
  
“Me too,” Chanyeol mumbles into Baekhyun’s hand, and because he’s just as prone to childish tendencies sometimes, he can’t resist licking it.  
  
“Ew!” Baekhyun snatches his hand back, and laughs when Chanyeol swoops in and kisses him again, this time a light peck. “I believed you the first time.”  
  
“So you’re not mad at me anymore?” Chanyeol can’t help but ask, a pout on his lips.  
  
Baekhyun smiles, and his eyes glow with a happiness that Chanyeol is sure he mirrors. “I was never really mad, because I knew you would come back for me.”  
  
“Did you now?” Chanyeol’s voice is teasing, but the relief still settles deep in him. He knows he has much to make up to Baekhyun, but for now, they can take it slow, one step at a time. His gaze falls on Baekhyun’s lips again. “To make up for it, can I kiss you again?”  
  
Baekhyun laughs and pulls him close until he can feel the imprint of Baekhyun’s smile against his lips.  
  
“Stupid. Don’t ask next time.”  
  
This is what love feels like, he thinks distantly. This is where love would always lead him.  
  
To Byun Baekhyun, and the infinity of stars in his eyes.  
  
✯ ✩ ✯  
  
_epilogue_  
  
Baekhyun’s finger traces light patterns across the skin of his chest, and he shivers despite the light sweat still clinging to him. “Stop, I’m ticklish,” Chanyeol complains, grabbing Baekhyun’s hand.  
  
Baekhyun snorts and rests his chin on Chanyeol’s shoulder, looking up at him. He looks thoughtful, which is never a good sign. Sure enough, Baekhyun says, “You know, I think you still owe me one.”  
  
“What?”  
  
It’s been a few days since Baekhyun came back, and needless to say, he still hasn’t been getting much sleep, albeit for a few very different reasons. Byun Baekhyun is a force all on his own, and, well, his energy is certainly boundless.  
  
“I want to see Earth.”  
  
The words are mumbled, but Chanyeol still catches them clearly, and he furrows his brows. “Why? You know there’s nothing left, Baek.” The endearment slips out naturally, and Baekhyun gives him a happy smile that makes his stomach flip before his expression turns serious again.  
  
“While I was imprisoned, I heard the researchers talking. I don’t know many words in your language, but I know some, and... I think there are more humans that the government has.” Baekhyun’s lips flatten. “They don’t deserve to be put through that. No one does. Whatever your government wants, it’s something to do with the Sleeper, right? I don’t know much about cryogenics, I’ll be the first to admit it, but I’m sure there are still some Sleepers out there with scientists who do that your government hasn’t found yet. Not all of us were revolving Earth. Some of us were sent further out, and I’m sure the government won’t have found them yet.”  
  
Chanyeol recognizes the way that Baekhyun’s eyes light up when he’s truly passionate about something, and he knows there’s no arguing with him after he’s made up his mind. But there’s still another problem, one that, in the end, still goes back to the reasons he had left Baekhyun in the first place. “You know you’re suggesting that we go up against the government, right? You don’t even know how to fight.”  
  
Baekhyun glares at him with a bite that makes Chanyeol flinch. “Did I take down those guards outside my cell or did you? Hm, oh wait. I think it was _me_. In chains. Through the bars.”  
  
“Fine, you know how to fight,” Chanyeol concedes quickly, “but you don’t know how to work a weapon. Or how to fly the ship, if I’m occupied.”  
  
“Then teach me,” Baekhyun breathes into his ear in a way that sends shivers skittering down his spine. He bites back a moan when Baekhyun nips and licks at the sensitive skin just behind his ear. “After all, you taught me this, didn’t you?”  
  
“Okay, okay, okay!” Chanyeol’s breath hitches, and Baekhyun pulls back with a satisfied smirk. It dawns on him then just how much influence Baekhyun has over him – how much of himself he has given over to Baekhyun. And despite everything, he can’t bring himself to regret it, because Baekhyun is worth it.  
  
He hugs Baekhyun tight and feels the warmth seep through him. It’s a warmth he’ll never let go of again, not as long as Baekhyun will have him.  
  
“Thank you for everything, Baekhyun,” he murmurs into Baekhyun’s neck, and he feels like he can’t breathe when Baekhyun pulls back and presses their foreheads together, his beautiful eyes crinkling with a smile.  
  
“Here’s to many more adventures together,” Baekhyun whispers, eyes alight.  
  
The crystal Chanyeol gave him dangles between them, reflecting the glimmers of light in Baekhyun’s eyes, and Chanyeol is just so full of _love_.  
  
“Here’s to our infinity.”


End file.
